


Dance 'Til Dawn

by Runic



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassination Attempt(s), Concubine Byleth, Dancing, Distrust, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Harems, Intrigue, King Khalid, Lust, Partners to Lovers, Politics, Revenge, Virginity, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23360530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runic
Summary: She wanted revenge, and the newly crowned King of Almyra was the only one who could grant her that chance.It was meant to be a simple thing, over and done with, and yet here Byleth found herself pulled into a web of politics and intrigue in the Almyran court.And all too gladly giving away her heart to a man who defines distrust before she realizes what she is doing.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril (Background), My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 336
Kudos: 544





	1. Anger

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, thank you to Ray who allowed me to take this wonderful idea of hers and run with it.  
> Secondly, thank you to Julls for betaing for me. You are wonderful!
> 
> Thirdly, thank you to midnight sinner for [this wonderful art piece](https://twitter.com/MidnightSinner5/status/1243901465460183040) I commissioned. I wanted something fun to go along with this story, and she went above and beyond in delivery. Seriously, please go check it out. It is beautiful, and I am super emotional over it.

Byleth glared at the woman who could not seem to stop laughing at her. The rest of the women in the troupe giggled behind their leader, although more than a few squeaked with fear when Byleth’s sharp eyes turned to them.

“Ah, ah,” the woman chastised, finally catching her breath. “Don’t scare my dears now.”

“I don’t see how my request was so ridiculous.” That was a lie. She definitely knew why they were laughing in her face, but at the end of the day, she needed their help.

Brown eyes narrowed, the woman staring at Byleth with an intensely critical gaze. Byleth could not tell if she believed her words or not, but she did not seem swayed in the least by them. Byleth stood straight as the woman began to circle her, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

“I have no doubt you know how to wield that sword at your side, but a dance is about grace, not brutality.” The girls giggled again as Byleth’s eyes widened when her hips were suddenly grabbed. The woman shook her, but Byleth kept her stance, remembering the exercises her father had taught. 

“Matti,” one of the braver girls said with a dainty giggle, “you’re going to frighten the poor thing.”

“Bah!” Matti retorted with a wave of her hand. She clicked her tongue as she circled back around. Matti grabbed Byleth’s chin, tilting her head side to side. “She is built like a soldier, she won’t break. And that there is the problem. There is no give! No fluidity!” Her hands dropped to Byleth’s waist again, forcing them to move in a circle. This time, Byleth forced herself to relax, moving along with Matti’s instructions. 

Matti paused, fingers tapping against Byleth’s hips. She hummed deeply, and Byleth swallowed past the lump in her throat.  _ Please, _ she found herself...was that a prayer? Byleth had never actually done that before.  _ No, you most certainly have not,  _ her conscious seemed to echo back at her.

Matti stepped back, eyes still racking over Byleth’s form. “Why do you want this?” she finally demanded. “The truth this time.”

Byleth took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. She had not lied before, simply not told the whole story. She had hoped to avoid it really, but she should have known better. Matti was the leader of the king’s favorite dance troupe, and Byleth should have expected her to be protective of her patron. 

“I need a favor from the king, but there is no other way for a Fódlani woman of my status to meet with him,” Byleth admitted. She plowed on as Matti’s eyes narrowed, obviously going to say no if Byleth did not add the rest of the story. “He is sheltering a criminal that recently crossed the border. That woman killed my father.”

“And what?” Matti asked, her voice dangerously even. “You want him to execute her for a crime that happened on foreign soil?”

“No,” Byleth snapped back. “I want him to grant me a trial by combat. I want to take care of her myself.”

The women looked at her with a new understanding, something that if it was not acceptance was at least a willingness to see where the whole affair went. Matti ‘hrumphed’ and lowered her hands. “Very well. Let us see if you are at least trainable first before I go introducing you to any recitals.”

/

She retraced the steps, continuing even long after the other dancers had called for a break. Over and over Byleth’s feet tapped out the patterns Matti had shown her, but each round only increased her frustration. Matti had let her join the troupe a month ago, and still Byleth was only regulated to practice. It would be years before she was granted an audience with the king at this point!

Byleth’s mind began to wander as she continued to pace out the dance, her movements growing jerky and stilted. She could almost smell the smoke and burning flesh as the village burned around her. They had returned to Remire because Jace had hinted and begged until Jeralt gave in, demanding that if the man was going to be such a nuisance about it he had at least better confess to the cute innkeeper he was obviously swooning over. 

But illness had overtaken Remire, and the Church would not let their band leave. Byleth understood the necessity of it, but…

She closed her eyes as she missed a step, stumbling as she remembered the scream that had awoken her. Jeralt’s strong hands pulled her out of bed, pushed a sword into her own grip, and they were off. She had expected bandits.

She had not expected Jace to charge her back. Jace, who had taught her how to draw forth notes from the small clay ocarina he always carried with him. Jace, who was in love with love itself, and recited tales of courtly love around the campfire at night until they all rolled their eyes at him. Jace, who had been with them since Byleth took her first steps.

Byleth’s arms moved in the dance, mimicking the same motion she used to raise her sword. It was on pure instinct that she pushed the sword through Jace’s chest, bile rising in her throat as his muscles easily gave way to the sharpened blade. His face was distorted, spit flying from his mouth as he snarled at her. There was hatred and madness even as the light left his eyes.

All Byleth could think as she pushed Jace off her sword was that he never did confess to that innkeeper yet. 

Byleth spun, gasping a breath. Her skirts flared out, bracelets clinking their own music, but all she heard was that terribly soft gasp. Her father’s knees buckled, his attacker twisting the knife she had buried in Jeralt’s back once more before he fell to the ground. 

She screamed, the noise strange in a throat that had never before raised its voice. Byleth swung her sword out, but the woman executed a perfect backflip away from her. Her laugh echoed in Byleth’s ears, racking every nerve across sharpened stone. 

It was as if the flames themselves burned that face into Byleth’s memory. Pale grey skin and laughing red eyes. Firelight gleaming off her red hair, making it seem darker than it really was. Too thick eyeliner, with the teardrop tattoo beneath. She ticked off every feature, refusing to forget a single one. 

She had wanted to chase after the woman, but she could not leave her father. Byleth dropped to her knees beside Jeralt, pulling him into her arms. He had wiped away her tears, the first that had ever fallen from her eyes, had given her the wedding ring her mother once wore, and then he was gone. 

Everything had blurred together after that. In that moment, Byleth had dedicated her life to tracking down her father’s murderer. She had raced into the night, chasing the woman even as she fled the town. Byleth later learned that no one else had survived Remire. The Church had burnt the entire village to the ground after the chaos of that night. The mercenaries were gone. The villagers who had welcomed them as one of their own, they were gone as well. 

Byleth had followed the strange woman across the border, searching for months before she found out that the king had entertained a grey skinned woman as his guest for dinner not long ago. Which had thus led to her desperate attempt to gain an audience with the newly crowned king. Which was currently getting her nowhere!

The click of Matti’s disapproving tongue drew Byleth out of her memories, those soft hands on her hip stopping Byleth in the middle of a spin. “Too stiff,” Matti snapped, although it did not carry her usual gruffness behind it. There was something...Byleth could almost mistake it for concern.

Matti pressed against Byleth’s hips until she relaxed, forcing the tension from her muscles. “Good,” Matti said softly. “Now the arms.” 

Byleth took a deep breath, and stretched her arms, rotating them in the exercises Matti had taught her. “Good,” the older woman repeated again. “Try it again, this time without your anger controlling your movements.”

Another deep breath as Byleth took up the starting position, focusing it into the slower movements as she once more retraced the steps. Her motions were more fluid this time, much more graceful than the angry stomping her dance had fallen into before Matti interrupted her.

It was easier this time to keep the anger at bay. Under Matti’s gaze she could remember what she was trying to accomplish, what she needed to do. She caught the graceful arch of Matti’s eye as she paced out the last steps, and her heart leapt at the small slip of approval.

“Much better,” Matti said as Byleth came to a stop. “But you must dance like that if you wish to take part in a performance. You let your anger control you too much.”

“Some of the dances you’ve shown me involve anger,” Byleth countered.

“True,” Matti readily agreed. “But in those you must evoke anger through your movements, not let it control them. You have yet to find the difference.”

Byleth looked away, unable to deny Matti’s observation. She hated how long this was taking, knew that the one prevailing emotion that she could not suppress was only making it take longer. If she could not do this, then her father’s killer would slip away once more.

Matti sighed and shook her head. “You are pushing yourself too hard. This is something many people train for from childhood. It is a lifetime's work. You have been doing this a month, and yet despite what you may think, you are progressing at a surprising pace. This will take patience to master, especially if you want to dance for the king. He only takes the best.”

“Do you think I can actually get there?” Byleth asked. She needed to know, needed to find out if she had to think up some other route. She would prefer to avoid sneaking into the castle, but if she had to…

Matti was silent for a long moment before her eyes softened. “Yes, so long as you work on letting go of your anger.”

That was a lot to ask. Her anger was the one thing keeping Byleth going.

“And,” Matti continued, “so long as you do not go overboard. Come, sit with us. There is a reason everyone rests when the sun is this high. It is much too hot to be doing anything, you insane girl. Come.”

Matti took Byleth’s hand and pulled her along, settling her into the group of giggling women. A cup of chilled wine was pushed into her hands, and Byleth let the gossip wash over her. There was something about gathering those seemingly insignificant bits of conversation that was surprisingly comforting.

/

Six months.

It had taken her six months, but Byleth was finally here.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” Esther, one of the other dancers, whispered to her. Byleth liked Esther. She was a sweet girl, meant for the king’s harem until her father had disgraced himself in battle. She mothered over the rest of the dancers, and was the first to welcome Byleth into the troupe. “Everyone is nervous their first time.”

“You worry too much,” Roxanne brushed her off. “The girl has practiced more than any of us. She’ll be fine.” Gruff and haughty as always, Roxanne’s harsh words continued to clash with her kinder meaning.

“Shh!” Matti snapped at them all. “Enough of that. Take your places. Byleth, at the back. Ah, ah, don’t give me that look. You already knew that’s where you’d be.” Matti worried over the rest of the girls, but everyone heard her mutter fondly, “Still thinks I’m holding her back after six months. As if I ever let a girl dance before with only six months of training!”

With all the back and forth Byleth was given no chance to respond. Before she knew it, she was taking a quick breath as doors to the banquet hall were opened, Esther pulling on her hand to guide the way. There was an anticipation that settled over the room as the dancers entered, all eyes turning to them.

Matti took her place beside the king’s side, settling into a pile of plush pillows, greeted happily by a pink haired woman who placed her hand on the arm of the king’s chair to talk to her. There was another blue haired woman curled up close to her side, looking as if she would rather disappear. It was the first time Byleth got a glimpse of the young king, but all she saw was a too false smile and an opened vest before the music swelled. Byleth missed the first step, forgetting why she had come until Roxanne expertly spun and tapped at her ankle. 

Byleth mentally cursed herself, falling into step. It was a good thing after all that Matti placed her in the back. She allowed herself to relax, the music washing over her and guiding her motions. Roxanne and Esther passed between her, and as the music’s pace grew faster, Byleth found a smile tugging at her lips. She never expected to have fun!

And then, the rest of the dancers were spinning off to the sides. Byleth made to follow them, to allow Esther her solo dance, but at the last moment Esther caught her hand. They stood there, a pregnant pause in the music making the whole thing seem planned. Esther winked at her, her face turned so that Matti and the king could not see, and pulled Byleth back to her as if Byleth were a lover she was chasing after.

Esther placed her hands on Byleth’s hips, pulling them against her own and swaying gently as the music started back up. But there was an underlying note of uncertainty in the song, and so Byleth took her cue and shook her head, spinning away from Esther. She came to a pause before the king, her eyes locking with his. They were a starling shade of emerald, set within a handsome face. Byleth could almost swear the sight of him stole her breath as that gaze pierced through her.

Thankfully, the reaction worked perfectly as Esther chased her. Together they weaved a story of forbidden love, Byleth’s character trying to do what was expected of her, but failing as she gave into her love for Esther’s character. Together they danced through a desperate escape, Byleth following along with Esther’s cues as tragedy struck. The desperation of the song petered out into a sad solo violin as they sunk into each other’s arms, the lovers ending their lives within each other’s embrace.

There was a moment of silence throughout the room, broken only by Byleth and Esther trying to catch their breaths. Byleth turned her head, once more meeting the king’s gaze. He was still staring straight at her, bending forward in his seat. His hair was held back by a colorful scarf, his equally colorful vest opened to reveal his bare chest covered in soft hair. (Or at least, it looked soft to Byleth’s eyes.) 

He raised his hands, large and battle scarred, and gave a single clap. It was all the room needed to erupt into applause. “Thank you,” Byleth whispered to Esther under the noise of the crowd. It was no small thing to give up a solo performance before the king himself. Esther might never get another chance to impress him like this, to ask for her own favor to grant her father a second chance.

Esther only smiled, leaning in to kiss Byleth’s cheek. Somehow the crowd’s approval grew even louder as they rose to their feet, the king’s eyes shining with laughter at the display, and yet, part of it seemed forced, as if he were putting on a display for the sake of the court. Byleth watched as Matti leaned forward, cupping her hand to hide her mouth as she whispered in his ear. Whatever she said, it made the king’s eyes widen before he quickly covered his surprise. There was a calculation behind those emerald eyes now when he looked at her, gaze racking over her entire body. He was judging her, and Byleth refused to flinch away. A small grin tugged at his lips, but it in no way came close to reaching his eyes.

The king stood, pulling Matti up with him. He gave one more nod of approval to Byleth and Esther before looping an arm around Matti’s waist and leading her out of the hall. 

Byleth took a step forward, but Esther grabbed her hand to hold her back, leaving Byleth to glare daggers into the king’s back. He did not even look back once.

What more did she have to do to gain his attention?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, go check out that art piece. It is amazing!
> 
> I plan on updating this story every other Saturday, which means the next chapter will be up April 11. I hope you guys look out for it!


	2. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally planned to be longer, but some stuff is going on, so I cut it in half.

Byleth was going to kill the King of Almyra.

She was going to wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze until those emerald eyes stopped laughing at her.

And then, of course, she would promptly be thrown in the dungeons and executed, but at least she would have one thorn out of her side. She continued to dance for King Khalid, twirling around the banquet hall until she was exhausted. Every time his eyes would stay glued to her, never once sparing a moment for the other dancers. The dancers whispered, as did the court, for Khalid did not hide his interest in this strange Fódlani woman who had come out of nowhere. 

Byleth had allowed her hopes to soar when Khalid had personally asked for her to dance a solo piece, but the king had watched with his same fascinated interest only to leave as soon as she was done. And then he did it again. And again. It was growing old rather quickly.

Matti clicked her tongue in that irritated way she always used when Byleth rushed. This time, however, her hand had been forced. “I should have told him you had no idea how to use a sword.”

“Would he have believed you?” Byleth countered. She swung the sharpened steel Matti had given her. It weighed less than the blades she usually wielded, but it felt good to have a weapon in her hands again. 

Matti snorted. “Probably not, impudent brat.” Byleth dropped her head to hide the way her lips tugged upwards. Over the last month that Matti had actually started letting Byleth perform, she had learned that Matti was technically part of Khalid’s harem, but he preferred her overseeing his interests in other ways than staying in the private palaces where the women of his house stayed. It was not the only thing Byleth had learned. Bouncing between court and other noble households had put quite a few secrets into her hands. “Would have probably just told me to train you in it, and to make sure you were ready for the festival.”

“Am I?” Byleth knew her skills in battle, but this was once again new ground she stood on. Matti’s opinion had come to mean a lot to her since the troupe had taken her in.

Matti turned sharp eyes to Byleth, taking a deep breath before her gaze softened. “You are,” she said with something bordering dangerously close to fondness. “Be patient just a little longer. I have never met a more determined woman.”

Byleth sighed and swung the sword in the graceful arc the dance required. “My determination means nothing in the face of his indifference.”

That had Matti laughing hard enough she bent over double, holding her arms across her stomach as tears sprang to her eyes. Byleth lowered the sword again, hand on her hip as she waited for Matti to finish. “Oh child,” she wheezed out, wiping a tear from her eye, “anyone with any sense in their head can tell the king regards you with much more than indifference. Now, put the sword away. We have a performance to prepare for, and His Majesty will not like you unveiling your sword dance earlier, especially not for a party he is too busy to attend.”

The sword swung in one more graceful arc before Byleth returned it to the velvet lined box Matti kept the prop in, her heart sinking as the lid clicked closed. She hoped Matti was right. The rumors of the woman who had killed her father ended at the palace, making the king still her best bet. 

And if Matti was wrong…

Byleth let her hand linger on the lacquered wood. She would think of something. Whether it was desperation or determination would remain to be seen.

/

_ There was a war, a brutal challenge ending in blood. The green haired woman sighed in relief when it was done, holding the spine rigid sword to her face. _

_ And then there was a girl on a throne. She yawned, but just as her eyes fluttered opened, so did her own. _

/

Byleth had attended a few Almyran festivals, enjoying the colors and sounds of the city as it celebrated. It was always a good time, and after the dancers had completed their performances, Matti would release them on the city. She enjoyed the honeyed dates Esther bought for her, and the games of chance Roxanne dragged her to, but there would be none of that this time.

Tonight Byleth was to dance for Khalid again, which was nothing new, but the sword in her hand was. This was the only day those who were not members of the court could bring a weapon into the king’s presence, and only the dancer representing Akhtar, the first Almyran to ride a wyvern and begin uniting warring tribes, in whose honor the festival was held, was allowed a single sword. 

Byleth never should have this chance. Matti would not have chosen her, but once again Khalid had insisted. She was not sure what his game was, but today she was going to bring it to an end. 

“Byleth?” Esther’s soft voice reached her ears, the other woman’s gentle hand landing on her arm. “Are you nervous?”

She drew in a deep breath and nodded. It was not a lie, but her nerves had little to do with what Esther thought. The feeling of the half lie to the woman who had treated her so well did not sit easily with her, making Byleth’s stomach do little flip flops. 

Esther’s kind smile did not help either. Byleth was grateful for the soft pat against her arm before Esther turned her attention away, seemingly reading that talking was only making Byleth more nervous. There were times she envied Esther’s ability to read what people needed so easily. 

The music swelled as the doors opened, and they entered already pacing out the steps of their dance. The rest of the troupe spun around her, their dresses different shades of brown and flowing behind them to mimic the wings of wyverns. The dance took them onto a raised dais, making it easy for the rest of the room to see them, but giving King Khalid a clear view from where he sat at the other end. Pink and blue heads were pressed together at his side as they always were, Matti in a pile of plush cushions stationed on his other arm. 

It was the same as it always was, Khalid’s gaze lingering on her like she had some secret to unravel. The only difference was the stern eyed Fódlani woman who sat behind Khalid’s throne, watching with the disinterest of someone who had seen the spectacle one too many times. 

They did not matter. Only the dancers around her and the sword in her hand, the man who smiled at her, those were the important things right now. Byleth moved through the dance, taming each wyvern, the dancer spinning off the dais until it was only Byleth and Roxanne. 

Roxanne was the only dancer besides Byleth in a different outfit. Her dress was white, the arms cut longer to give the illusion of a massive wingspan. She was the first, the wyvern Akhtar took as her mount before she brought together the eastern tribes, creating the first beginnings of what would become Almyra. 

The music crescendoed as they fought, the sharp blade of Byleth’s sword coming close to cutting Roxanne’s smooth skin over and over again. The Almyrans would use nothing less than a live blade for this. Her face twisted in fury as they acted out the mock fight, but Roxanne was brought to heel as the music’s intensity became frantic. Roxanne was left kneeling at Byleth’s feet as she danced through the last steps, letting the notes carry her further and further. She moved across the dais, the sweeps of her legs wider than needed, carrying her closer to the king.

Matti realized it first, her brow creasing in confusion as she picked up on Byleth’s mistakes. As the last notes of the song died away, Byleth allowing the momentum of her last spin to position herself, Matti leaned forward. She made as if to grab the king’s arm, even though touching him without express permission was strictly punished.

The stern eyed woman was next, standing from her seat with a startling speed that could rival Byleth’s own, but she was too far back. The pink haired woman was on her feet as well, the blue haired timid woman at her side following with the spark of magic on her fingers.

But they could not stop her. Byleth had reached the end of the dais, her blade swinging to a stop to rest under King Khalid’s chin. Those green eyes that had watched her so intently widened briefly, a flash of surprise quickly replaced by a satisfied smirk. Byleth had to remind herself yet again that stabbing him would be counterproductive.

There was a deafening silence in the room, no one daring to breathe as the dancer held her sword to their king’s throat. Byleth knew her position was precarious. It would be short work for an archer to deal a fatal blow, but Byleth would make sure to take Khalid with her.

He leaned forward, the last reaction Byleth would have expected, but she held the sword steady. The blade caught his throat, a small pearl of red welling up to run down his throat. “I was wondering how dedicated you were to your revenge,” he said lightly, his tone more suited to commenting on a sunny day.

So Matti had told him. Byleth had suspected with how the troupe leader stayed glued to Khalid’s side at every performance, but it did nothing to lessen her feeling of being toyed with. He had known all this time and still she had danced for him, her simple need too low for him to give her even a moment of his time. “Enough to chase it across a border,” she answered in her own neutral tone.

“Enough to do something incredibly stupid.” Khalid ran his fingers down the flat of the blade. It seemed a simple move, more play into their little standoff, but Byleth could feel him testing her grip on the blade, ready to slap it away if there was a hint of weakness. “Well, Lady Eisner, what can I do for you?”

His eyes. Byleth did not usually find herself shaken, not when she dreamed of that bloody war or when Remire had burned; only when that cursed blade sank into her father’s back. But Khalid’s eyes gave her pause, making Byleth come close to second guessing herself. 

Her grip on the sword tightened, knuckles white against the hilt. It was barely perceptible, but the room lurched forward as Byleth pressed the sword ever so slightly harder against Khalid’s throat. His brows raised, but still the king made no move against her, sitting lazily upon his elegant chair. 

“You hosted a guest here some months ago, a woman with grey skin and a teardrop tattoo below her eye,” Byleth finally answered. “She killed my father. I would like her head.”

His green eyes narrowed, her unbeating heart tightening under Khalid’s judgement. “I know the woman of which you speak, but I cannot just go around executing random guests who have shared my wine and feasted at my table. Sets a bad precedent, you see. Anyone with half a grudge would think themselves able to storm in here and demand the same.”

“I did not say I wanted her executed,” Byleth responded. She lightly twisted the sword, watching as another drop of blood slid down Khalid’s neck. “I said I wanted her head. I will take it myself.” She paused, leaning forward as her voice grew softer. “And I will kill anyone who tries to take that from me.”

That hunger in the king’s eyes intensified, and Byleth suppressed the shiver that ran down her spine. She would not be surprised if he tried to devour her when all this was over. 

“Single combat then?” At Byleth’s nod the smirk on the king’s face broke into an all out grin. “Now I think that is an idea we can get behind.” Khalid laughed, answered by the sounds of mirth from his own warriors. Only those closest to the throne stayed grim faced. “Lower the sword,” Khalid instructed. “You have my word I shall give you your chance at revenge.”

Byleth let the sword linger for a moment against his skin, studying the contrast of the silver blade against his copper skin, before bringing it back to her side. Those eyes held lies and schemes, but they were much too interested in how the whole scenario would play out to cut her down now. 

“Bring in Kronya,” Khalid ordered, two of his guards turning on their heels to obey immediately. “And more wine.” He waved his cup, a servant girl with her head bowed refilling it to the brim.

“You,” he instructed, pointing at Byleth with his other hand, “brace yourself. Wouldn’t want you to fall now, would we.” 

Byleth was not sure what he meant, but was not left to wonder for long. The dais shifted under her feet, soldiers picking it up and turning it so that the ends no longer faced the king. It left Khalid with the perfect view of the fight to come, and Byleth understood it would once more become her stage.

The room lapsed into an easier silence. Khalid waved off the concern of the women around him, occasionally lifting his head to address a broad man with a thick beard who was now leaning against the back of his chair. 

It was happening. After so many months, after chasing this woman across hundreds of miles, Byleth was finally going to have a chance at her revenge. She was going to take down the woman who had killed her father.

_ My, my...you certainly are singularly focused. Hopefully once this is over you’ll not be so dull. _

Byleth had no time to think on the voice that spoke to her, the same one she occasionally heard in her dreams. The guards had returned, dragging the woman with the teardrop tattoo, Kronya Khalid had called her, to the dais and tossing her up. Two daggers followed her, Kronya’s hands wrapping around the hilts as she blinked, taking in the room through narrowed eyes unused to sunlight.

She was skinnier than Byleth remembered. Dark marks around her wrists indicated the manacles that had so recently held them, making Byleth briefly wonder what Kronya had done to be thrown into Khalid’s dungeon. 

Not that it mattered now.

Byleth raised her sword and rushed forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to keep my schedule of updating every other week, but I've been having some health problems so the chapters are going to be shorter than I planned. All of my chapters are probably going to be shorter for awhile. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Next one will be up in a couple weeks.


	3. Revenge

It nearly ended as soon as it began.

Nearly.

Byleth’s sword swung down cutting no more than a few stands of short orange hair as Kronya rolled away at the last second. She sprung to her feet, crouching low with both daggers in hand. Her eyes were wide, breath coming in heavy pants as she tried to ground herself.

But Byleth was not about to give her that chance. She came on again, Kronya catching the sword between her own blades. Her arms shook as Byleth pressed, but the sword was so much lighter than the blades she usually used and Byleth could not put the full weight she wanted behind the strike for fear of the blade breaking. If it did, Byleth would use her own hands, but she had seen Kronya work, and would prefer to keep something that gave her a greater reach than those quickly biting blades.

Kronya pushed, and Byleth used the movement to disentangle herself from Kronya’s daggers. She feinted to the side, dodging the strike Kronya meant to follow up with that would have disemboweled Byleth. The dagger reversed, seeking any contact at all with Byleth, but Kronya’s movements were still sluggish. Byleth danced away, her feet instinctively carrying her through a move Matti had taught that pulled her away from Kronya’s reach.

“You!” Kronya hissed, eyes widening as she recognized Byleth. She cursed as Byleth struck again, forced to once more raise her daggers in defense. “You’re that annoying bitch who chased me out of that cursed land!”

Byleth pulled the sword up, grazing Kronya’s side before the woman flipped backwards. She landed on shaky legs that folded under her, but still managed to redirect the strike that would have cut off one of her arms. Black blood oozed sluggishly from her side.

Kronya followed the strike with one of her own, taking the offensive as she guided Byleth’s sword to the side, holding it back with one dagger while the other scored a deep gash along Byleth’s leg. A terrible cold rushed through her flesh, sinking into her very bones. Byleth gritted her teeth, twisting her hand to reposition the sword. As she brought it up, it caught Kronya’s shoulder, slicing a large chunk of skin away as Kronya tumbled backwards. 

“Curse you!” Kronya spat at her. She rushed forward, her strikes sloppy, weighed down with months of disuse, spurred on by anger and fear. It forced Byleth to go on the defensive, moving further down the dais. To any untrained eyes, it would seem that Kronya had gained the upper hand. But this was a room filled with trained warriors, and without needing to look, Byleth could feel them all leaning forward, dissecting Byleth’s every move and judging. There was nothing besides herself and Kronya that moved, the others not even daring to breathe. 

It was a slight misstep, the smallest roll of Kronya’s ankle setting her ever so slightly off balance. Byleth saw it immediately. The sword came up, cutting deep into Kronya’s chest. 

Kronya flipped back a few times, landing on her hands and knees. That black blood stained the dais, Kronya’s hands slipping as she tried to push herself back up.

Byleth took the advantage, dancing forward as she chased Kronya. Finally.  _ Finally! _

But Byleth swung too hard, forgetting the weight of the sword as what was meant to be a killing strike left her overextended, her sword ending its arch closer to the ground than Byleth had meant. Even as her sword bit into Kronya’s neck, the dying woman raised her daggers to take advantage of the opening Byleth herself had created. That strange metal was coming up, under Byleth’s arm. It was going to sink into her chest, and there was no way for Byleth to reverse the blow in time to stop her.

But only one dagger was aimed at her. Kronya had lifted the other, had flipped it so the blade was in her hand. She was preparing to throw it. She was going to throw it straight at King Khalid, intending to take out the person who had chased her and the one who had caged her even as her life’s blood was spilling out.

The world went black and shattered, colors inverting upon themselves. The dagger stilled, its tip so close Byleth could feel the tickling sensation of it hovering just above her skin. The other dagger was halfway across the room, Khalid’s emerald eyes narrowed in something resembling anger.

_ “Hmm...Sothis...Yes, that is it. My name is Sothis. And I am also called...The Beginning. But who once called me that?” _

_ Byleth stared at the girl on the throne, surrounded by a strange darkness. And yet, she found herself feeling oddly safe in its embrace. “Sothis?” she asked as the girl stood. _

_ “I was not able to recall my name...until just now. And just like that, it came to me. How odd.” The girl’s, Sothis’, eyes narrowed and she snapped her next words. “That look upon your face... Did you think me a child? A mere child who forgot her own name? Phooey! That “child” just saved your life! And what does that make you?” _

_ Somehow Byleth knew exactly what the girl wanted to hear. “I’m less than a child?” she supplied uncertainly. _

_ “Correct! You understand. You allowed yourself to get distracted by your need for revenge. Yet all is well, as I have stalled the flow of time for now. You would have died had I not intervened.” _

_ “Thank you,” Byleth said, finding no reason in this situation to be rude. _

_ That seemed to please Sothis. “There now. Is gratitude so much to ask? I did deem you worth saving, after all. Though it is only momentary, time has stopped. However did I manage that…”  _

_ Sothis seemed distracted by her own question, but Byleth had no answer for her. Instead she asked, “What will happen when time resumes?” _

_ “When time begins again, the dagger will tear into your flesh, and you will surely meet your end.” _

_ Byleth startled. She had seen the blade coming toward her, but realized now that upon finding herself in this strange space she had hoped her fate would somehow be changed. _

_ “How rude of you to drag me into this! Now what to do…” _

_ “Turn back the hands of time.” Perhaps if this strange girl had the ability to stop time, she could also reverse it. _

_ “Of course!” Sothis shouted triumphantly. “I must turn back the hands of time!” A series of interwoven circles of light appeared in front of Sothis, strange magical symbols Byleth had never seen before. “Yes...I do believe it can be done. You really are quite troublesome. I cannot wind back time too far, but all is well. You are aware of what’s to come, which means you can protect yourself this time. Now, go...Yes, you who bears the flames within. Drift through the flow of time to find the answers that you seek…” _

Kronya flipped back, her blood once more staining the dais as her limbs folded under her, landing on her hands and knees. 

Byleth took a moment, no more than the span of a breath, to wonder at the fact Sothis had actually sent her back in time, before refocusing on the task at hand. She surged forward, remembering the weight of her sword this time, forcing herself to be careful.

Kronya saw Byleth’s charge, readied her blades expecting that reckless headlong charge. The one she aimed at the king went spinning behind her as Byleth struck it out of the air. She twisted so that the blade meant for her scored a gash along her hip instead of landing a killing blow by burying itself in her guts.

Byleth brought the sword sweeping back around, Kronya’s face frozen in horror forever as the thin blade cut across her face. It bounced off bone, doing only superficial damage until Byleth allowed the stroke to continue down, sinking heavily into Kronya’s shoulder.

The blade snapped as Byleth tried to pull it back, leaving a significant amount of metal sticking out of Kronya. Byleth settled on punching the woman in the face with the spiked pommel of the sword, the sound of crunching bone unnaturally loud in the spacious room.

Kronya’s body fell back from the force of the blow, dead before she hit the floor. There were no distinguishing features left of her face, the teardrop tattoo coated under a layer of blood and bone shards.

Byleth’s fingers were clenched painfully tight around the hilt of her broken blade, her chest rising with each desperate gasp of air her lungs demanded. The pain from her wounds were beginning to demand attention, running hot and cold in equal measure. She gritted her teeth against the strange pain, wondering if this was what her father felt as he lay dying in her arms.

Jeralt.

For so long avenging him had consumed her, given her purpose. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing it was over, in knowing Kronya would never hurt someone else’s loved one, but there was also a hollow emptiness. It was as if someone had placed a rock inside her chest, and no matter how deep Byleth drew in her breaths, she could not dislodge it.

_ “You did well.” _ Sothis’ voice echoed in her head, kinder than when she had yelled at Byleth in her strange throne room.  _ “You need to be careful though.” _ Sothis interrupted her warning with a drawn out yawn.  _ “The king gave you what you wanted. What -” _ another yawn  _ “will he want in return?” _

What indeed.

A soft hand cupped Byleth’s, prying her fingers away from the broken sword. “It’s done now, child,” Matti whispered. “It’s done. Let it go.”

Byleth released the sword, her grip switching to Matti’s hand. The sound of the hilt hitting the dais broke whatever silent enchantment had settled over the room. Warriors began to murmur, voices rising until opinions on the fight were being shouted back and forth, a complete analysis going on between a dozen different groups.

“Come on.” Matti’s voice was an anchor in the quickly unfolding chaos, and Byleth held onto it as it pulled her from the depths. She guided Byleth off the dais to stand in front of King Khalid.

His face was grim, the mischief in those emerald eyes gone, replaced by a rapid series of calculations. Byleth was startled out of her study of him as Khalid leaned forward. A careful finger pulled back the fabric of her skirt, Byleth flinching as the calloused tip brushed too close to her wound causing it to throb. “Take her to my rooms,” Khalid instructed, his voice level. “Marianne.”

The blue haired woman, her eyes still downcast but her back no longer hunched giving her that timid appearance she wanted to crawl into herself and hide. Khalid bent his head toward hers, but Matti was already carrying out her orders and dragging Byleth out of the room. A moment later Marianne nodded and turned to fall into step behind them.

They left the din of the banquet room behind them. Byleth’s hip was truly throbbing now, and every time she placed weight on her right leg the limb threatened to give out. She could see every time her skirts swayed with her steps the angry line sluggishly pouring blood down her leg. There was a dark outline to the wound, her flesh turning black where Kronya’s blade had touched.

“Here.” Marianne’s voice was soft, a barely there flutter. Her touch was gentle as she took Byleth’s other arm, supporting more of her weight. Together the two women walked Byleth to a set of gilded doors. A set of guards, curved swords at their sides and a veil of black chain covering the lower halves of their faces, opened the heavy doors for them. Byleth was grateful to be dumped onto a plush cushioned couch, taking weight off her aching hip and leg.

“I’m going to look at your wounds,” Marianne explained as she pushed the skirt out of her way. Byleth waited patiently as soft brown eyes looked over the long slash. She did not flinch when Marianne reached for the clasp that held Byleth’s skirt together, moving the black painted metal out of her way as well. 

Byleth allowed her eyes to scan the room, picking out escape routes and areas where it was possible for someone to hide. The room they were in was an elaborately decorated receiving room, Byleth occupying one of a dozen different couches. There were weapons on display, beautifully crafted and old. It all felt rather impersonal. The door they had entered through was at her back, but there were four others fanned out on the opposite side of the room, each decorated with a creature featured heavily in Almyran mythology. 

Byleth’s attention was drawn back to the doors as they opened once more, Khalid striding into the room. She could not help thinking that she was finally seeing the side of him that had made him a living legend, that had gained him the Almyran throne and the head of the Alliance roundtable. At the feasts she danced at, Khalid was all easy smiles and charming words, but that was gone. He carried himself with an air of regality that belonged on him, fitted and tailored where on other nobles it hung baggy and loose. 

“Poison?” Khalid asked as he came to a stop behind Marianne, leaning forward to look at her work. 

Marianne shook her head. She raised her hand, a soft glow enveloping her fingers. “I don’t know. It looks like it, but it doesn’t  _ feel _ like it.”

Byleth instantly held her breath as Marianne’s magic poked and prodded at her. There was a tingling sensation, her body unable to decide if it was pleasant or painful as the wound closed under Marianne’s care. The black marks of decay receded until there was only a bright pink stretch of new skin. Marianne knelt down and repeated the same process on Byleth’s leg.

Once she was done, offering Byleth a half sure smile before standing. She bowed to Khalid who excused her with a nod. A second nod toward Matti dismissed her as well, but the troupe leader lingered a moment too long, fire flaring in her eyes.

“Khalid -”

The king held up his hand to cut her off. “It’s all right, Matti. I can handle this.” Instead of being outraged at her disobedience, Khalid flashed her one of those charming smiles before turning to Byleth. “She’s mad at you because you held a sword to my neck. She can be a little protective.”

“I’m sorry, Matti,” Byleth said softly, genuinely regretful to have betrayed Matti’s trust. “I won’t stab him, I promise,” Byleth added, hoping the small jokes would help assuage her anger. 

“Ah, see? There we go, Matti. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

Matti’s sharp eyes went from Byleth to Khalid, not losing any of their intensity. Khalid met her with that unwavering charm. Matti was the one to break, scoffing and shaking her head as Byleth watched the anger physically drain from her. “You’d probably deserve it if she did.”

“Well that’s just rude,” Khalid retorted. His smile turned down into a frown, and he placed a hand over his heart as if she had physically wounded him. 

Matti shook her head again as she stepped up to Byleth. She bent forward, her lips brushing against Byleth’s forehead. “I hope it was worth it,” she whispered, too low for Khalid to overhear. 

Byleth watched the swinging of her hips and the swaying of her skirts as Matti left, until the doors closed behind her and Byleth could no longer ignore she was alone with the King of Almyra. 

Khalid poured two cups of wine from a pitcher on a waiting tray, all the necessities provided should the king need them. 

Khalid leveled one in front of her face, waiting until Byleth took the goblet from his hand. As she took the cup, Khalid followed her motion down, settling himself onto the couch beside her. Byleth’s breath caught in her throat, her chest doing something funny as Khalid rested his hand on the fabric of her skirt, hovering close to the newly knitted skin, all pink and new. It was so very similar to when he had examined her in the banquet hall, and Byleth held her breath waiting for the feel of his skin against hers that did not come. 

After a moment, he removed his hand, lifting his head to catch Byleth’s gaze. Byleth had never cared about someone touching her before. Her father would pat her shoulder on a job well done. When she was little, she would sometimes sit next to the mercenaries as they told stories at night. Matti and the dancers would place their hands on her to correct her posture or guide her through a step.

None of those things ever phased her, so she had no idea why Khalid’s almost touch made her chest feel so tight. Perhaps she had been poisoned after all. Byleth looked down at the cup in her hands, contemplating its contents. Not that it would have made much sense for Khalid to have her healed and then immediately poison her.

“You want something,” she whispered. 

Khalid answered with a soft chuckle. “I was expecting a thank you, but that’s on me.” He paused to take a sip of his wine, Byleth lifting her head to watch him. Those emerald eyes never left her even as he tipped his head back to take in the alcohol. “Can you blame me for thinking it fair I get some kind of repayment for giving you a chance at the revenge you’ve been chasing?”

Byleth’s eyes narrowed, her expression falling back into that neutral position that so many people found unsettling. “I didn’t see your blade striking down Kronya,” Byleth pointed out. Khalid laughed louder this time, a short burst of noise that grated on Byleth’s already frayed nerves. “But,” Byleth forced from her throat, “I guess I should thank you for not throwing me out of your court.”

“Well you did kind of have me in a precarious position,” Khalid pointed out. He rubbed his neck, the mark Byleth’s blade had left still there, although the blood had been washed off. 

He took another sip of wine, Byleth watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, unable to look away from that tiny cut. “What do you want?”

“Ah!” Khalid smacked his lips, raising his hand to point a finger at her. “Right to the point. Lovely. I want you to stay here in Almyra.”

Byleth blinked, not having expected that. “To what purpose?”

“Multiple ones,” Khalid answered. “Mostly because you just made a spectacle of yourself, and everyone in my court would like to have you at their side right now. I would prefer you not to become a weapon pointed at me.”

“But you’d be perfectly fine pointing me at other people,” Byleth added, catching on. 

“If it becomes necessary.” Khalid kept his tone light. “Let me ask you, what were you going to when this was all over? Were you going to stay with the troupe and keep dancing? Because as much as I would enjoy that, I don’t think that is where you belong.”

Byleth found herself unable to meet his gaze, slowly turning her head back to her cup. What was she planning to do now? She had not thought about what she would do after she avenged her father. Although Matti had given a grudging acceptance of Byleth’s apology, she doubted the troupe leader would be willing to put her before an audience again. 

“What would this entail?” Byleth asked, avoiding Khalid’s own question.

She felt Khalid reposition himself next to her, straightening with a little jump. “Officially you would become a member of my household. The harem is ruled over by my mother, so she would explain your duties to you, but mostly I would want you as my eyes and ears within the court.”

Byleth blinked, lifting her head again. Khalid’s eyes sharpened ever so slightly, catching her look of surprise with all the triumph of a predator who had finally cornered its prey after a long chase. “You want me to stay here collecting gossip for you?”

“When you strip it down to the bare bones, yes.” Khalid leaned back in, his vest falling open to allow Byleth a rather spectacular view of his chest. Her chest did that twisting tightness again, but Byleth was unsure what exactly to do with that information, so she chose to ignore it. “You’ll be provided for, of course.”

“It sounds more like a gilded cage,” Byleth countered. She did not like the idea of being stuck in one place, feeling as if she were trapped under his thumb. 

“Hmm, I see.” Khalid’s eyes wandered down as Byleth set the cup between her knees, using her newly freed hands to redo the clasps of her skirt. The pink scar disappeared under the metal, and with it whatever spell it had cast over the king. There was still that annoying mischief in his eyes, but it shifted into something darker. “I’ll make a deal with you. Join my harem for a year as repayment. After that, if at any point you want to leave, you will have my express permission to do so. No questions asked.”

He wanted an entire year from her? Well, she had spent almost a year chasing Kronya in the first place, and as he had pointed out, she had no plans now. There was nothing for her back in Fódlan, not with the mercenaries buried in the same ash pile as her father. And here no one would call her the Ashen Demon. 

“Answer me one thing and I will agree to this.”

Khalid’s brows raised. He sat back, obviously intrigued, and motioned for her to continue.

“Why did you imprison Kronya in the first place?”

“Ah.” Khalid repeated the motion of taking a drink and smacking his lips. Byleth was half convinced he did it to give himself time to think through his answer. When he finally did answer, his voice was slow and measured, that darkness flashing in his eyes again. “She tried to kidnap my mother. It did not end well for her, as you saw.”

What had Kronya hoped to accomplish by kidnapping the queen mother? Not that it mattered now.

So Byleth nodded her agreement, watching as that charming smile spread across Khalid’s lips. “Excellent! I have a feeling we are going to be great together, Lady Eisner.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Khalid snorted, the sound more genuine than any of the others he had allowed himself during their little exchange. “Byleth then?”

She nodded, feeling her own lips pull upwards ever so slightly. “Byleth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! I'm going to keep the schedule of updating every other week for now, but if I get enough of a backlog written, I would like to move up to once a week updates. 
> 
> And yes, because this story keeps getting out of hand, my planned five chapters are now up to seven. Claude will get an interlude chapter up next so you can see a bit of his thought process throughout the story.


	4. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claude's interlude chapter. Not much plot progression here, but I felt it important to get in his head for a brief moment. I hope you guys enjoy it.

“I heard you have a new dancer.”

Matti scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “I should not be surprised your little spies already told you. I should have saved myself a trip.”

“Aww, Matti,” Khalid cooed at her, picking up his own cup of tea. “But then you would have deprived me of seeing your beautiful face.”

Matti made that derisive snort again, but picked up her own tea. “I am as old as your mother, boy. You keep me around because I’m useful.”

“Hey! I’m king now! Why do all the women in my life insist on continuing to call me a child?”

“Because you pout just like one.”

Khalid sighed and shook his head. He had had this argument so many times with different women he knew it was useless to continue protesting. “So, tell me about her,” he said instead, switching back to the topic he had invited Matti into his private chambers for in the first place.

“She is Fódlani, which I’m sure your spies already told you.”

They had, and that was another problem in and of itself. He would open the borders between Fódlan and Almyra, it was the entire reason he had gone through so much trouble to claim a seat on the Alliance roundtable while holding the throne, but at the moment having random Fódlani women slip across the Throat could easily be used as ammunition against his ability to protect Almyra. He needed to know why this woman had braved the insane trip in the first place.

Matti took another sip of tea before placing the cup back on its saucer. “She wants an audience with you.” 

Khalid raised well groomed brows, but otherwise remained silent, waiting for Matti to continue.

“Byleth claims there is a woman you entertained as a guest that wronged her, says this woman killed her father. She is either seeking information about her whereabouts, or your permission for a duel.”

“Did she tell you anything about this woman?” 

“Not much beyond that she has a teardrop tattoo under her eye,” Matti answered with a shrug.

Khalid felt his muscles stiffen. He needed no further explanation than that. He knew the exact woman this Byleth wanted revenge on, currently had her locked up in his dungeons. So far Kronya, as she called herself, was not being very helpful about why she had attempted to kidnap his mother. Khalid was on the verge of calling for her execution and being done with it, but if Byleth had really traveled all this way, then perhaps Kronya could serve a purpose even if she would not talk. 

“Hmm,” Khalid hummed in response. He schooled his features into that carefree smile, but Matti’s eyes still narrowed. She was a relic of his father’s court, and her ability to read people was part of the reason Khalid had insisted upon taking her into his own harem. “Do you think she’ll be ready to participate in any dances soon? I’m curious about her.”

Matti shrugged, reaching across the table for a pastry. “She has a remarkable capacity for learning, but even still, it will be months before I would be willing to allow her to partake in a banquet.”

Khalid sighed melodramatically and rested his chin in his hand. “Well, I guess I will just have to be patient then.”

Sharp eyes focused on him, and after a moment Matti made that trademark scoffing noise again. “Going for the long game on this one? Seems for once I misjudged.”

/

The lights in Galli’s lab were smooth mage stone, casting a pale blue glow throughout the room. Galli themself was hunched over a worktable, two grey blue blades in front of them. They had proven just as secretive as their wielder when it came to giving up secrets.

“Anything new?” Khalid asked, leaning against the door frame.

Galli lifted their head, eyes set in a narrow glare at the interruption. It seemed all of his advisors were going to test him today. “You know you would have been notified if there was.”

Khalid raised his brows, staring down his nose at Galli until they relented, sighing as their shoulders sagged. “Sorry,” Galli offered up. “You know how I get when I lose track of a thought.”

They waved their hand back to the daggers, inviting Khalid to step closer. “As you know, I have worked with even the rarest of known metals, and even I cannot identify what these are made of. I’m not sure how Kronya managed to create that poison effect upon the Dowager Queen without any actual poison present on the blade either. There is no residue of any kind, so I have nothing to give to Peni to identify. Tamora and Lysithea also haven’t made any breakthroughs.”

Khalid chuckled at Galli’s sour pinched lips. “I bet they’re taking that well,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“About as well as could be expected, especially since I ordered them restricted from my labs for the time being.”

“Galli.” Khalid clicked his tongue, which only caused Galli to throw their hands up in the air.

“You try dealing with those two when they want to experiment and aren’t making any progress!” Galli waved a hand wildly at the giant scorch mark on the opposite side of the wall, a pile of dust cold beneath it. “That was eight months of work down the drain!”

“I’ll speak to them, Galli,” Khalid assured the scientist. “But those daggers nearly killed my mother. I need the three of you on the same page with this, four if you can find something for Peni to work her botany skills on.”

Galli continued to glare at the pile of dust a moment longer before their face fell. They nodded, turning back to the work table. “All right,” they murmured, “but only because it’s you asking, Khalid. I’d tell anyone else they could go stuff themselves.”

Khalid laughed, allowing Galli one last pout before he left. “You certainly know how to make a man feel loved, Galli.”

/

So this was the woman that had his favorite dancers both enchanted and concerned. 

She looked like she would be more at home on the battlefield than dancing before his court. Khalid leaned back in his gilded chair, Hilda and Marianne already settled on his right hand as Matti settled herself comfortably at his other side. He did not acknowledge her as the dance went on, eyes trained on this woman who came to him with vengeance in her heart. 

After the first few steps, Byleth flowed into the music, obtaining a grace she had not started off with. Khalid could tell by the tone of her muscles that she was a warrior, and something in him longed to see her with a blade in hand. He blamed his father’s blood. He himself was proof of how hot an Almyran’s desire ran when presented with a beautiful woman who could wield a weapon. 

As Byleth spun away, one of the dancers latched onto her. Out of the corner of his eye, Khalid saw Matti sit forward, her face creasing in a frown. Apparently this was not part of her planned routine. Not that Khalid minded, it gave him more time to study this Fódlani woman. 

And if by the end of the dance his mind was buzzing with all the useful ways she could fit into a scheme, or that his heart felt as if someone had closed a fist around it, well that was no one else’s concern.

/

The reports came in as nothing more than scraps. Whispers of a blue haired mercenary with her steely eyes met the inquiries of his little birds.

Ashen Demon, they whispered with fear.

Daughter of the Blade Breaker, they said in awe.

He was right. She was a warrior through and through. Clever enough to cross the Throat without being caught, persuasive enough to talk her way into Matti’s hardened graces.

She was a prize, so temptingly close. Khalid just had to play his cards right.

/

Byleth continued to dance, and Khalid continued to watch. He could have granted her an audience that first night, but he enjoyed studying the way she moved. She was half dancer half warrior, and the two sides blended together in a seamless fashion that was all her alone. Even when she danced the same steps as the others, something about the way with which she carried herself made Byleth stand out to Khalid’s eyes.

He insisted she be given the part of Akhtar because he wanted to see her with live steel. He needed to know if it was as impressive as the image he had conjured in his mind. 

She was so much more.

As Byleth spun, her blade flashing sunlight, the entire room held their breath. She came closer and closer, too close. No one was allowed that close to him without express permission. She was so fast Khalid only had enough time to realize what was happening, felt his eyes widen in shock, before the cool metal was biting at his skin.

He supposed he had pressed her into desperation, but this amount of stupid bravery was not something he had considered. 

Khalid leaned forward, watching her own brief moment of surprise. There was a rush in his veins, an exhilaration at the thought that this woman could possibly out maneuver him. Sure, she would wind up dead if she did, but he had gone without a real challenge for some time now, not since he had taken the throne. “I was wondering how dedicated you were to your revenge,” he said, trying to keep the excitement from his voice. 

She did not seem pleased with that response. But Khalid gave her what she wanted anyways. He watched as Byleth danced away from Kronya’s blades, the grace Matti had instilled within her over the past few months flowing into her battle stance. 

It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever witnessed.

And then she knocked one of those terrible daggers out of the air, as if she had predicted Kronya’s unexpected strike. The other dagger bit into her side for her efforts, but it was not enough. Byleth ended the strange woman’s life with two brutal strokes. 

When Matti led Byleth to stand before him, Khalid felt himself reaching out before he could even think to stop himself. His fingertips brushed against her hip, near the injury that was already turning her skin black with decay. She flinched away in pain, but not before he felt how clammy her flesh had become.

“Take her to my rooms,” he ordered before calling for Marianne.

Marianne bent her head in close when she reached his side, following the orders of his summoning hand. “Study that wound until I get there. You will make a full report to Galli and Peni when you are done.”

Marianne nodded and swept out of the room after Byleth and Matti.

“I suppose you expect me to take in that girl?”

Khalid turned his attention to his mother, Tiana’s green eyes boring into him. “I have not said anything of the sort,” he countered.

Tiana raised an elegantly carved eyebrow at him, in much the same way he did when unamused by the trouble someone was about to cause him. It was a passing thought, nothing more, of how many of his mother’s expressions he had adopted into his own.

“You are my son,” Tiana said evenly, although Khalid could hear the hidden steel within her words. “Do not think I cannot see how this ends.”

“Why, Mother!” Khalid gasped dramatically, doing nothing to improve Tiana’s mood. “I did not realize you had gained the gift of foresight!”

Khalid studied the grim set of his mother’s lips and realized he had overstepped. But he was not a little boy anymore, and the crown upon his head protected him from her punishments. Well, from any public forms at least.

“Careful, Khalid. The harem is my domain,” she reminded him. “I will see to it that she is given a room, but I will not forgive her for threatening you as easily as it seems you have.”

“Mother.” Khalid sighed, fingers fidgeting for a moment before his hand dropped back to his side, abandoning its quest to reach for her. "Trust that I have a plan."

"You always do." Tiana's gaze softened by the slightest of margins, so subtle Khalid was not sure if anyone else would have picked up on it. "You are so very like your father," she murmured. 

The fabric of her skirts whispered as she turned, leaving Khalid very much alone in the center of his court. 

/

He offered her wine, the taste of it dry and earthy on his tongue. Her fingers brushed against his own as she took the cup, making him want to both lean into the contact and jump away from it. He could wrap an arm around Matti or Hilda, hold them close until the court fell away and they were alone, but he always let them go after that. Those touches were part of the play, the act he kept going to appease his ever hungry nobles looking for any chink in his armor.

He could not even remember the last time he held his mother’s hand, felt the soft touch of her calloused palm against his cheek. A year ago at least, before his father’s death. 

As if to test himself, curious about what sensation she would invoke in him, Khalid reached out. He meant to trace the newly healed skin along her hip, bright pink and scared despite Marianne’s care, but his heart thudded in his chest and he redirected his hand at the last moment. His touch landed on her skirt, the gauzy material scratching at his fingertips. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric, the chill of it gone along with the infection from the blade.

He removed his hand, refusing to admit the thudding in his heart was either fear or desire. Most likely some strange mix of both.

“You want something,” Byleth whispered, looking down at her cup.

A laugh rose in his throat, and Khalid felt the smile back on his lips. She had pulled him back onto familiar territory. Khalid outlined his plan for her. He left out many of the details, those would come later when he could be assured of how loyal she would be to him, but did not hide the fact she would essentially be working for him.

Khalid had counted on her reluctance at being caged, offering up the condition of a year long service as if he had simply plucked it out of the air. He had not, however, counted on the question that came next.

There was something about Byleth that was continually surprising him, throwing him off kilter and needing to readjust. His conversation with her felt like a sparring match, and he was not always sure if he was winning. It was exhilarating and confusing, a dance Khalid wanted to see played out if only so he knew the final steps.

Khalid was going to make good use of this year. And perhaps even figure out what made that strange girl tick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter still planned for two weeks out. It's going to be a long one, so I hope you guys are looking forward to it!


	5. Red Wolf Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all remember how I said the next chapter was going to be a monster?  
> Yeah, it got too big, and I felt like I was rushing the scenes to fit them in. So I've divided it up into smaller sections, but will be updating every week instead of every other. You may have noticed the chapter count kind of sky rocketed because of this change.

_ Red Wolf Moon _

The inner palace was a lavish expanse of grounds. Tiana led Byleth through the hustle and bustle of the main harem, filled with the women of Khalid’s court and their servants. They parted before the Dowager Queen in a wave, bowing their heads as she passed, making their progress unhindered. Byleth was surprised by the strange mix of people, but then again, Khalid did have a Fódlani mother, and two Fódlani ladies on his arms at every party. 

But the inner chambers, those closest to Khalid’s own, where his most favored concubines dwelt, seemed to be their target. Tiana had led her on a loop around from when she had gathered Byleth from Khalid’s room, bringing her back close to their starting point. Byleth had heard enough gossip around court and from her fellow dancers to know the significance of her placement.

A servant dipped her head and opened the door for them as they finally reached the chambers...her chambers. Tiana swept in without a second thought, but Byleth found herself pausing on the threshold. 

The door opened into a lavish sitting area, smaller than the one in Khalid’s chambers, having a more private and open feel to it. Arched walls along the north wall opened up onto a private garden, fragrant lilies and jasmine scenting the air. Plush couches were arranged around a small table, one of the most beautiful tea sets Byleth had ever seen sitting there ready to use. There was a desk as well, facing out into the garden, already supplied with ink and stationary. Close at hand were a number of bookshelves, the majority of the titles Byleth could pick out written in Almyran, but she caught Fódlanese and Srengian there as well.

Tiana stopped halfway through the sitting room, staring at her with a look Byleth could not decipher. “Come,” she commanded once Byleth was done scanning the sitting room.

She motioned for Byleth to follow her through another door, Byleth forcing her feet forward. The bedroom was just as lavish as the sitting room, but Byleth was more prepared after the initial shock. The majority of the room was taken up by a large round bed, lace veils hanging from the ceiling to be pulled closed at night, covered in sheets Byleth knew were softer than anything she had touched before just by looking at them. There were more bookcases, and another smaller desk, the entire space more intimate than the sitting room.

“Your wardrobe and bathing chamber are through that door,” Tiana said, pointing out the door that Byleth had overlooked. It was marked by an intricate design, gold filigree inlaid into the wood. Byleth’s eyes went back to the opposite wall where a smaller section was decorated in the same way. The wood was completely smooth, hiding the fact there was a door there at all until it was pointed out. “Your maids will have their own rooms through there,” Tiana explained, noticing where Byleth’s attention had gone.

Once more those intense green eyes, so similar to her son’s, studied her. Byleth blinked back, not sure what Tiana wanted from her.

“My son may have forgiven you that little stunt,” Tiana started slowly, “but I will not tolerate you threatening to harm him again.”

“I have no plans to do so,” Byleth answered. 

Tiana was silent for a long moment before nodding. “Khalid has placed you here, but the harem is my domain. Do not forget that.”

Byleth watched as Tiana swept out of the room, deeming her task done. She stood there between the two rooms,  _ her _ rooms, not knowing what to do. This amount of riches was not something Byleth was used to. Even when she danced at feasts and parties the dancers eventually retired to their set of rooms just off the palace grounds. She had shared a space this large with multiple girls, and certainly had never had this amount of privacy to herself. She hardly counted her time on the road tracking down Kronya private, not with having to be constantly on alert for wild animals and those strange dark creatures that had started appearing in Fódlan. 

Byleth eventually settled on flinging herself onto the bed and sinking into its softness. She stared up at the ceiling, blinking in surprise to see an intricate mosaic set into the ceiling. Dark blue stone mimicked the night sky, shot through with golden ones to represent the stars. White stones outlined constellations. Byleth’s brow furrowed as she studied it, trying to place why some lines did not seem to match up with any stars, before she realized the entire thing was actually an intricate calendar, marking where the stars would be in the sky throughout the year.

Where were they now? Byleth had been caught up on one focus for so long she realized she had lost track of the days. She counted back, trying to place the month. And then it hit her like a ton of bricks. 

Red Wolf Moon.

A year. An entire year had passed since her father’s death. The entirety of it all pressed upon her, and Byleth’s eyes flew open in surprise as a wretched sob tore its way from her throat. 

She had barely allowed herself time to grieve when her father died, there was too much of a chance of Kronya escaping if she slowed down, but now that was all over. Kronya was dead, and Jeralt was avenged. 

The tears flowed down her cheeks, the stone sky above her blurring. Once they started, Byleth could not get them to stop. An entire year of grief tore at her, overwhelming her with emotions much too intense for her to handle. 

/

“Byleth?”

A soft voice whispered her name, pulling Byleth back from the sweet bliss of unconsciousness. She blinked up at the form above her, taking longer than it should have for her to identify Esther in the darkness that had settled through the room.

“Here, drink this,” Esther ordered in her calm voice. 

Byleth obeyed as a glass was pressed against her lips, cool water flooding relief down her throat. Her entire body felt weak and limp in a way she had never experienced before, not even when a training session with her father left her unable to move.

“What are you doing here?” Byleth finally managed to ask, her voice cracked and raw. 

“Matti asked if we wanted to stay with you,” Esther answered, not doing much to actually explain anything. Her mouth opened in a small ‘o’, realizing she had confused Byleth, but Roxanne gliding in from the wardrobe cut her off.

Well, that explained the ‘we’ part at least. “You’re well stocked on clothes,” Roxanne huffed. “It almost looks like the king was planning on having you in here sooner or later.”

It would not have surprised Byleth if he had. The conversation she had with him in his chambers had convinced her that there was much more to that charming smile than he let on. 

A thin white nightgown was thrown on Byleth’s lap. Roxanne clicked her tongue and rested her hands on her hips when Byleth simply stared at it. “Come on now. You may have just woken up, but it is the middle of the night. Get changed and it’s back to bed.”

Byleth turned to Esther, hands fisting in the fabric of the nightgown. On anyone else Byleth’s look would be considered mild confusion, but Esther laughed softly as she recognized the bewilderment on her friend’s face. “Roxanne and I have joined the harem as well as your handmaids.”

Her handmaids? That was right, Tiana did say there was room for her attendants. And Matti...Matti had offered them a choice. Roxanne and Esther had chosen to stay with her. 

Byleth felt tears gather in her eyes again, and she gripped the nightgown tighter. “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered.

Esther and Roxanne shared a look, which resulted in Roxanne scoffing and Esther hugging Byleth tightly. “We weren’t about to abandon you to face the intrigues of court alone,” Esther assured her.

“Speak for yourself,” Roxanne snipped. “I just came along so I could find an influential and handsome partner.” She sank onto the bed beside Byleth and Esther, joining in on their hug. “Come on now,” she said, gentler this time. “Let’s get you changed. Do you need a bath as well?”

Byleth was not sure how she felt about the two of them taking care of her, but she could not deny that a bath sounded almost heavenly right now. When she hesitated, Esther and Roxanne pulled her onto her feet together. Byleth found herself being dragged to the washroom, and was not surprised to find that it was just as equally elegant as the rest of her chambers. 

As the two other women stripped her and guided her into the large pool, filled with heated water, Byleth could only think about how strange it all was. 

This was definitely going to take some time to get used to. 

/

She woke to a swallow chirping angrily at her from her windowsill. Its red breast was puffed out, chirping once more and ruffling its feathers before taking off. Byleth, her face still half buried in her pillow, squinted against the sunlight filtering into the room.

The soft click of a door opening and closing echoed through the room, followed by the sound of careful footsteps. “Are you awake?” 

Byleth was glad that it was Esther who came to wake her. She did not know if she could deal with Roxanne’s gruffness right now. “Mmrph,” was her eloquent answer.

Esther’s gentle laugh was accompanied by Byleth’s blankets being pulled back. “None of that now. The Dowager Queen is taking tea in your garden right now, and it would not do to keep her waiting.”

As much as Byleth did not want to deal with anyone today, did not even want to move right now, but it did not seem the universe was going to allow that. She allowed Esther to pull her out of bed, took over brushing her hair half way through as she finally woke up enough to complete the task, and allowed a simple light weight dress to be pulled on over her head.

By the time Byleth was walking through the sitting room and out into the garden, she was feeling somewhat close to actually being herself.

Tiana, however, put her to shame. The Dowager Queen’s white cotton shirt was tucked into soft cream colored leather pants. The material hugged her curves, accentuating her muscles. Byleth had heard stories about the warrior woman who had stolen the heart of Khalid’s father with her ferocity. Her thick brown hair was tied back, a deceptively simple braid holding the ponytail back. Tiana’s hair was long enough it still hung down between her shoulder blades in soft waves.

Byleth had dealt with nobles before, they had been her father's main employers, but she had never seen somewhere wear it as well and as easily as Khalid did. Now she knew he had inherited more than his mother's eyes.

Tiana watched her like a hawk as Byleth stepped into the garden. She was sat at a small table, already ladened with pastries and tea. As Byleth sank into the chair across from her, Tiana set down her teacup and filled Byleth’s own.

“Thank you,” Byleth said softly.

Tiana hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, at least you have some manners. That is a start."

When Byleth did not blanch at the underhanded insult, the very corner of Tiana's lips twitched upward. "As my son seems determined to have you as a part of his court, it falls to me to ensure you do not become a detriment to him. Tell me, how much do you know of events going on in Fódlan.”

“Next to nothing,” Byleth admitted as she picked up the teacup.

“About the nobility?”

Byleth shook her head again. “We’ve worked for a few, but my father always dealt with them.”

“The Church?” Tiana’s voice grew harder, but by the way her eyes narrowed, Byleth suspected she had little hope of the answer being any better.

Another shake of her head. Byleth did not want to tell Tiana she had only ever heard mention of a church in the very briefest of passing, referenced occasionally by one or two of the mercenaries.

Tiana let loose a long breath, setting her tea back in its saucer. “I had hoped,” she finally said, “that you could help advise him on matters in Fódlan, give him something beside the privileged view Hilda and Marianne have, but it seems Jeralt slaked in that part of your education. You will need some training before you go giving any advice.”

Byleth sat there, adsorbing Tiana’s judging gaze. She startled briefly at the mention of her father’s name, but kept herself from asking if and how Tiana knew him. At the very least, the Dowager Queen seemed somewhat pleased by the fact Byleth was not some shrinking violet. “You could just allow me to be a bodyguard,” Byleth pointed out. “Or continue to dance.”

“No,” Tiana said firmly, more instructing than harsh. “Until you prove yourself, I will not allow you to carry a weapon in my son’s son's vicinity. Nor will you dance unless it is at his request. Khalid does not like the phrase that his concubines are  _ his _ , but for all intents and purposes, you serve at his pleasure.”

“It seems like that is the entire court,” Byleth pointed out.

There was that small tug at Tiana’s lips again. “True enough. But there is always intrigue in a court. For whatever reason, Khalid has chosen you to help him navigate his way through. You will be his eyes and ears at court. Until Khalid grants his permission, it would be improper for it to seem as if your attentions were gifted to any other man. Or until he claims you as wife or queen,” she added almost as if she thought that a far off possibility. 

“From the way you say that it seems as if the two are not always the same.”

Tiana’s lips turned in a full smile at that, pleased over happy. “Very good,” she complimented. “There is potential for you. I will have a set of tutors arranged for you. You will meet with them everyday to learn the ways our court and those in Fódlan. You will learn diplomacy and manners, so that you do not embarrass Khalid. Lastly, you will learn some type of musical instrument. You may be skilled as a dancer, but it is best to have other options at your disposal when you are called on to entertain the court.”

Byleth took it all in, slowly nodding her head when Tiana paused to see if she understood.

“Good. I expect you to work diligently. I will meet you here every Sunday morning to assess your progress.”

Byleth did not need to be told that Tiana would not tolerate incompetence.

/

“What do you think you’re doing?” Byleth heard the voice hiss behind her. Given how quiet it was and how far away, she did not think it was meant for her, rather she was not supposed to hear at all. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a male voice answer.

“I was curious to see what you’d been doing with her.”

“So you stare at her like some love struck fool?” 

Byleth continued to focus on her task of pouring tea, recognizing Tiana’s unamused tone.

The second speaker scoffed. “Oh please, Mother. You know I’m simply curious about her. And you keeping her locked away has done nothing to dissuade me.”

Tiana clicked her tongue in disapproval as Byleth finished setting up the tea and turned to face them. Khalid smiled at the third teacup Byleth had set upon the table.

“Well, that is certainly an improvement,” Tiana admitted. “Very well, Khalid. Let me show you what those weeks keeping your little pet project locked away have accomplished. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! I'll see you next weekend!


	6. Ethereal Moon

“No, definitely not that.”

Byleth found herself sitting on Khalid’s massive bed next to Marianne, watching as Hilda dismissed outfit after outfit. They were some of the most beautifully crafted garments Byleth had ever seen, and the Goneril girl was throwing them aside like they had personally offended her somehow.

“No,” Hilda said again as she was offered the next outfit. Even the servant helping her was beginning to look annoyed. Hilda seemed unaware, spinning around to stare at the mass of fabrics she had already rejected. If she picked up something from that pile, Byleth thought the servant might actually find a way to stab the pink haired woman with her eyes. “Everything either looks too Fódlani or too Almyran. We need something that is a mixture for the first new year’s Khalid is celebrating as head of two countries.”

“Do you still have enough time to design something?” Marianne asked in her small timid voice. She had a book open in her lap, but had not turned a page in the last hour.

Hilda threw up her hands. “Ugh! That’s work, Marianne!” 

Marianne shrank away, and Hilda immediately knelt on the bed next to her. “Ah, no, I’m sorry, Marianne. I probably should just design something myself. It was too much to hope I’d find something that blended the styles in the exact way I was looking for.”

Khalid chose that moment to enter his bedroom, paused when he was greeted by Hilda’s glare, and spun around on his heel to leave. “Oh no you don’t!” Hilda called after him. “If I am going to work because of you, this outfit is going to be stunning! Get in here so I can measure you!”

“That all sounds rather important, Hildie,” Khalid said with a note of gravity, “but I do have important meetings to attend to.”

“Uh huh. And that would be why you were escaping to your bedroom in the middle of the day?” Hilda countered. Byleth watched as Hilda literally put her foot down in the face of Khalid's pout. "You are the one who decided to unite the Alliance under the Almyran banner. It is important it at least looks like you are paying attention to both."

Khalid sighed and slowly walked back into the room. "You're starting to sound like Lorenz."

Byleth had no idea who that was, but Hilda looked positively offended. “You appointed me your Fódlan cultural liaison. If you’re going to make me work, then at least don’t make the job more difficult.”

The next hour was a whirl of fabric as Hilda measured Khalid and tested different colors against his complexion by holding up bright square patches to him. 

Byleth could not help thinking that Khalid looked rather strained about the whole situation, and his sigh of relief when he fell onto the bed next to her was nothing short of genuine. She silently offered him the cup in her hands, and he gratefully drained the sweetened juice it contained.

Khalid fell backward, letting the now empty cup roll into the sheets. He kept one eye cracked open, making sure Hilda had Marianne distracted with what he obviously hoped was her final choice of fabrics, before muttering to Byleth. “Stars, Hilda is dear to me, but sometimes she drives me insane.”

Byleth felt the beginnings of a smile on her lips. “I have not seen her like this before. Usually when we are going over missives from Fódlan she looks like she is dozing off.”

“I think my mother would end her if that actually happened.”

Byleth recalled Hilda’s ‘eep’ of terror as Tiana turned her narrowed eyes on Lady Goneril and how the girl had sat up completely straight and attentive afterwards. “You may be right.”

“I am about most things,” Khalid said, all too pleased with himself. 

“What instrument did my mother choose for you anyways?” he asked, changing the topic. “I know she wanted you to learn one.”

“She let me choose,” Byleth corrected, watching as Marianne graced Hilda with a smile. Hilda had draped her in a thick yellow piece of uncut fabric, tugging on the fabric so that Mairanne was forced closer to her. Hilda rested her forehead against Marianne’s, whispering something to her that Byleth could not make out, but it made Marianne blush a brilliant shade of scarlet and giggle at the same time. “I chose a kinnor,” Byleth elaborated.

Byleth turned her head to finally look at Khalid. He hand one arm thrown dramatically over his forehead, spearing her with the one beautiful green eye he still had open. “Did you now,” he said slowly, words so very close to a purr they scratched at her skin. “Play me something?”

“I’m not very good yet,” Byleth protested. Her fingers curled in her lap, unable to place the strange emotion that fluttered in her chest.

_“That would be nervousness,”_ the girl who resided in her head said, joining in on the conversation. _“This boy has you all aflutter.”_

Byleth found herself wishing that Sothis would go back to sleep. The girl had become more active since her fight with Kronya, and usually Byleth enjoyed her presence. She was comforting in this strange new world Byleth was trying to navigate through. But she did have the annoying little habit of teasing Byleth whenever Khalid was around. 

“Nonsense,” Khalid answered, waving his hand to brush aside her concern. “Everyone starts somewhere. I would like to see, or I guess in this case hear, if it suits you. Call it professional curiosity.”

He flung himself off the bed with a huff, wandering off to a corner of his room before Byleth had a chance to ask what he meant by that. 

_“He certainly is a curious one,”_ Sothis said, her words broken up by a yawn. Apparently she had decided the conversation was no longer interesting enough to keep her attention. _“Every time he smiles it never reaches his eyes.”_

Sothis settled down as Khalid returned to the bed, carrying a kinnor with him. His harp was larger than the one Byleth had practiced on, made of polished wood. The olive branches carved into the harp were almost worn away by use and time, but Byleth could still make out the lovingly crafted details. 

“Here,” Khalid said, handing over the harp and helping settle it in Byleth’s lap. “Just a few notes, that’s all.”

Byleth hesitantly raised her hands to the strings. Her fingers did not shake, but it still felt strange in her grip. It was so different from holding a sword, requiring a much lighter touch. Byleth had earned her tutor’s ire in her first few lessons for simply hammering away on the strings, achieving nothing beyond a garbled mess of noise. This instrument though, she had to treat properly. Someone had crafted it with a love for the music it would produce, and she would show it the proper respect. 

The first few notes warbled as she plucked the strings, teasing out a melody she was not sure she could place the origin of. It was as if the simple tune sprang to life from her own mind, but Byleth knew that could not be the case. She had heard this somewhere before. Maybe one of the mercenaries sang it to her when she was little and could not sleep. She had heard of mothers doing so for their own children before. 

_In time’s flow_

_See the glow of flames_

_Ever burning bright_

_On the swift river’s drift_

_Broken memories alight_

Byleth faltered, picking three too many strings at once when she made the mistake of looking at Khalid. There was open fascination in his expression. Even Marianne and Hilda had stopped what they were doing to listen. Byleth felt heat rising in her cheeks, and offered the kinnor back to Khalid, hoping he would not make her play more.

The king reached for his harp, his hand hesitating a moment over hers before gripping it just above. His warmth was a phantom caress against her skin, and something strange twisted at her stomach. Byleth almost wondered if the juice was poisoned, but everyone else seemed fine. Why did Khalid’s presence introduce so many new confusing things into her life?

_“I can guess why,”_ Sothis whispered almost conspiratorially. _“But if you are too fool to see it on your own, then I cannot help you.”_

“That was not bad at all,” Khalid complimented gently. “Especially if you’re already going around making up new songs.”

_“Ah,”_ Sothis intoned, Byleth much too preoccupied with the way Khalid’s face lit up as he looked at her. _“Now that is a true smile.”_

_/_

“Ugh!” Hilda exclaimed as she flopped onto a couch beside Byleth, multiple pillows falling to the floor when she dislodged them. “That man always makes me work!”

“It looked more like you volunteered,” Byleth pointed out, settling back as Hilda turned a lazy glare on her. 

“I can’t have him dragging my name through the mud. If he went out with a mishmash of styles on him and it looked horrible, I would be the one to blame,” Hilda explained. 

“Oh, thank you!” She immediately seemed to relax as one of her handmaids handed her a cup of freshly squeezed juice. 

“Why is that?” Byleth asked lightly, studying the pink haired woman over the rim of her own cup. “I thought you and Marianne were Khalid’s cultural counselors, not his fashion designer.”

“Technically, we are,” Marianne interjected in her own timid voice. She sat not far from Byleth and Hilda on her own couch. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the open arches of the sitting room, one reserved only for the inner circle of the harem. The entire place had such an air of tranquility and peacefulness to it that one could almost forget the world outside. 

Marianne dipped her head when she realized both Hilda and Byleth were now looking at her. Byleth could actually see her hands tremble, and waited as the other woman took a deep breath to steady herself. “It was the easiest way for Khalid to bring us here,” she eventually continued to explain. “It was part of the agreement with the Roundtable when Khalid became the Sovereign Duke. There was a bit of an uproar, many of the nobility thought that he was going to take us hostage, or that we would become instruments to fulfill his sexual appetites.” The way she said that particular phrase made Byleth think she was quoting someone. “By giving us valid positions within his court, it soothed many of the protests.”

“More like their shouting turned to grumbles,” Hilda countered. She rolled her head, not lifting her neck from where it lay against the back of the couch, until she could look at Byleth once more. “My family has been involved in military affairs for generations against Almyra, and Marianne’s adoptive father is a skilled orator. Margrave Edmund was a major reason Khalid was able to win over the Roundtable in the first place. Well, really Marianne, because she was the one who convinced her father to support him.”

Marianne blushed a deep shade of crimson, lowering her gaze once more. “Hilda, that is not true.”

Hilda rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness to the gesture. “Now that,” she said, waving her currently empty cup at Marianne, “is not true. Claude, Khalid, whatever he wants to call himself, owes you a lot for what you did for him when he first came to Fódlan.” 

She reached out across the space between them, taking Marianne’s hand in her own. Hilda gave it a reassuring squeeze, but did not drop the contact when a moment later Marianne returned the gesture. Their hands lingered together, and they shared a look filled with such awe and softness that Byleth wondered for a moment if they forgot she was in the room with them. 

There was a brief interaction at the front of the room. Roxanne, who had accompanied Byleth to this little get together, took a message from a guard in whispered tones before turning back to them. She dipped into a slight bow as she addressed Hilda, far too shallow for someone of Hilda’s station, but Roxanne was proud and Hilda did not seem to mind. “Lady Goneril, King Khalid requests your presence tonight.”

Hilda sighed dramatically, dropping Marianne’s hand. “What a bother. Ugh, I am going to have to start preparing now to be ready in time. Honestly, no consideration, that man.” Hilda continued to mutter to herself as she stood and swept out of the room, her own handmaid trailing along behind her. 

Byleth turned her gaze to Marianne, not understanding what had just happened. “Why is she so annoyed that Khalid wants to see her?”

Marianne flushed a deep red, turning a darker crimson than Byleth had ever seen on the normally pale girl’s face before. She was almost concerned by it. “Ah, well, um,” Marianne stumbled. “I, uh, I should actually help her get ready. Excuse me!” Marianne stood so fast she pushed her couch back a good few inches, and all but feld the room.

Bewildered, Byleth blinked up at Roxanne as the dancer turned handmaiden came to her side. There was a fury radiating off of Roxanne that Byleth could not understand. “Roxanne?”

“Hump!” Roxanne did not stomp her feet, her training in grace and poise would not allow that, but she came rather close, the movement more fluid than anything so angry had a right to be. “I thought for sure the king would have called you to his chambers by now. He seems so fascinated with you, but has not yet asked you to spend the night with him.”

Understanding dawned on Byleth, and she was surprised to feel a beat of disappointment within herself. “You know how long he kept me waiting for a chance at my revenge,” Byleth pointed out. “He would have kept doing so if I had not taken the initiative myself.”

Roxanne ‘hrumph’ed again. “Well then maybe you should do so again, least he lose interest in you.”

Byleth was not sure why that thought seemed to frighten her so much.

/

“Khalid told me you played a song for him the other day.”

Byleth stared at Tiana over the rim of her cup, trying to decipher if the Dowager Queen was pleased or disappointed by her actions. It was the first thing Tiana had said to her beyond the simple greeting as she joined Byleth for their mandated weekly breakfast. “I did,” she finally answered, the words slow and deliberate. 

Tiana hummed softly as she paused to take a sip of her own tea. There was a trap being laid for her here, but Byleth could not see the edges of it. She knew not if she was about to fall into a pit or be swept up by a net. 

“A very interesting song. He sang a bit of it for me,” Tiana explained. 

A silence fell between them as Tiana ate a pastry, Byleth taking one drizzled in honey for herself. And then Tiana asked her something completely unrelated, and yet it still felt like the trap springing closed around her. “You said Jeralt never taught you anything of the Church?”

Byleth stared at her, but Tiana remained relaxed and composed, leaning back in her chair as she finished off a bit of flaky bread covered in raspberry jam. “He did not.”

Tiana’s eyes sparked at the measured pace of Byleth’s words, knowing that the woman she was testing had already caught onto the game of cat and mouse. “The Church of Serios is extremely influential within Fódlan. They may claim not to have a hand in the governance of the three territories, but that could not be further from the truth.”

“Does that put them at odds with the Alliance now?” Byleth asked. “Since Khalid was raised here, it seems unlikely they would hold much sway over him.”

Tiana’s grin was sharp and cold, but very pleased. “Something along those lines. It is why we must tread carefully with them in this new united world my son wishes to create, especially with the Empire ready to declare war on them.”

Byleth opened her mouth to ask why, but Tiana cut her off. “You have done well enough with your studies on the Alliance. I will have your studies expanded to all of Fódlan. You will also have time with Marianne once a week where she will begin to teach you the doctrine of Sothis.”

Byleth felt her eyes go wide even as the voice in her head echoed a ringing, “ _What!?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very dialogue heavy story, but I hope you guys enjoyed it.  
> Next chapter is the new year's festival, and I get to test out my skills on another action scene. Hope you're looking forward to it!


	7. Guardian Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who did not see the twitter post, I had to skip last weeks update because I needed to finish a few projects. Sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Thank you to Mads for helping me edit!
> 
> One last thing before we start. I have been introducing a lot of ocs, and I was wondering if you guys might like me to create a list of them with some basic info, just so it's easy to keep track of who everyone is between updates. Let me know if that's something you guys would be interested in.

“There.”

Byleth looked down at the bracelet the tiny white haired woman had secured on her wrist. Hilda, busy with ensuring the outfit she had so lovingly crafted over the last month for Khalid looked like absolute perfection, had placed her in the hands of the last of the Fódlani nobles within the king’s inner circle. Lysithea was a prickly little thing, charging forward on a path of her own creation without stopping for anything. Or at least that was what Byleth thought every time she saw the young woman. 

The bells on the bracelet jingled, bright and clear as Byleth moved her arm. There was a matching one on her other wrist, and two more wrapped around both of her ankles. “I sound like a wind chime,” Byleth said, glaring at the bells. They drew more attention to her than Byleth would have liked. 

Lysithea’s eyes crinkled as she raised a hand to cover her mouth. It was actually the first time Byleth had seen a slight break in Lysithea’s armor. “They are for good luck,” the younger woman explained. “The sound is considered to ring in fortune throughout the new year.”

“Well then I guess nothing bad is going to happen to any of us through this year with all this ringing.” Byleth lifted her arm and shook the bell again. “But I guess they are pretty.”

“They suit you.”

Byleth blinked at Lysithea, not having expected something like that from her. Granted she did not know Lysithea well yet, but there was something almost tragic about her, something that made Byleth want to sit her down and force her to take a moment to breathe, to stop rushing headlong into whatever it was she was afraid to miss. Apparently Lysithea had not expected it from herself either judging by the wide eyes and her open mouth. “Oh! Never mind! We are going to be late!”

Lysithea, her skirts and cloak flaring out around her as she spun, hurried toward the door, urging Byleth to  _ hurry  _ as well. Byleth followed, her much more measured pace creating a pleasant melody she found herself actually enjoying. If Lysithea were not glaring at her, she might even have attempted to see if you could make a decent melody from her movements. 

She allowed herself to be led through the stone halls of the old fort, occasionally bumping into the other people crammed into the space with them. Fodlan’s Locket had never needed to host this many people before, and everyone was having to compromise on accommodations.

When they finally stepped outside, Byleth paused as the winter air wrapped around her, kissing pink onto her cheeks. She had missed the smell of wood smoke on frozen air, the sound of snow crunching beneath her feet and people laughing as they huddled close for warmth. 

Suddenly she was a little girl again, spending her first winter in the kingdom. She had stood there just as she did now, watching so intensely the falling snow that the only thing to snap her from her reverie was a sudden snowball to the face. Her father had laughed at her owl like wide eyes, the smile still on her lips as he wiped the melting snow from her face. It had caught in her lashes, and Byleth quite liked the sensation of it changing from snow to water right before her eyes.

Byleth turned as her arm was grasped, muscles going rigid at the unexpected touch. Khalid laughed at her surprise as he tucked Byleth’s arm against his own, his touch still warm despite the cold around them, and the many layers of fur and fabric that separated their skin. A fleeting thought passed through her mind that perhaps the world once had two suns, but Khalid had somehow stolen one from the sky and hidden it within his own flesh. 

“I did not mean to startle you.”

There was a snort from Khalid’s other side. Byleth turned her head, gaze tilting back to take in the large blond woman who had walked outside with Khalid. Byleth had only seen her once, standing beside Khalid just as she was now. There were braids in her hair, the color lightening to white by the time it reached the small of her back. Even under the furs she wore, her muscles were prominent and well defined. She certainly looked like she could use the giant great sword strapped to her back.

“Hush, Brida,” Khalid ordered, pulling Byleth closer. “Not all of us are used to this ridiculousness, you giantess. The cold runs in your veins.”

Brida rolled her eyes. “And the heat makes yours thin. This is nothing, tiny king. The Locket is no contest to the winters of the north. And if you did not want to startle her, you would have said something as we came out here. You just want to use her to keep yourself warm.”

Khalid glared at her as Brida plowed on. There was a healthy shade of pink on his cheeks, but Byleth could not tell if it was from more than the cold. “That might be the most words you have ever managed to string together.”

Brida snorted again, a large grin crossing her lips. Despite the insults to one another, Byleth noted that both she and Khalid looked to be enjoying their little exchange. 

“Khalid, you know Byleth cannot be in the forward train. She does not have the formal title of concubine yet.”

Byleth found herself being pulled away from Khalid, Tiana’s touch nowhere near as warm as her son’s. She looked over her shoulder as Tiana tucked Byleth’s arm against her own to see Khalid pout, his emerald eyes only leaving her as Brida began to laugh at him.

“Brida may speak of Sreng fondly and often, but she has never taken any of Khalid’s offers to return. They bricker like siblings, those two, but she cares deeply for him,” Tiana explained as she walked Byleth through the choked walkways of the fort. 

“Is that why you chose her to act as his bodyguard?” Byleth asked. Her head was bent close to Tiana’s, as if the two were close friends gossiping about their love lives or conspirators finalizing some plot.

“It is,” Tiana answered, that slightly vicious smirk tugging at her lips. “Brida will take care of Khalid today. I wish for you to see to other things.”

“And what would those be?” Byleth asked. They paused at the sound of something large being knocked over, and watched as a cat darted out from the side street they passed, curling around Byleth’s feet and meowing to be picked up. She swooped down and scooped up the cat, despite it stinking of salted fish, folding it close to her chest and wrapping her cloak around them both when she felt how cold its tiny body was.

When she looked at Tiana again, there was an emotion in her eyes Byleth could not place.

"Do you make a habit of picking up strays?" the Dowager Queen asked.

“There is no harm in it,” Byleth said in her neutral tone. The kitten mewled and turned in her arms, pawing against Byleth’s chest in an attempt to bury itself in her warmth.

Tiana’s eyes narrowed, displeased with the answer. “There can be harm in all things, even something as simple as taking in a new pet.”

Byleth met her gaze, aware of the wet seeping into her clothes from the cat. She felt its head butt against the crook of her arm and held on a little tighter. Tiana’s eyes softened after a moment and she broke off, shaking her head. “On your head be it.”

“You didn't answer my question?” Byleth pointed out. “What was it you needed me to do?”

Tiana stood a little straighter, putting herself back into business mode. “I want you to keep an eye on the crowds today. My son may have claimed leadership of two territories, but that does not mean they are united. There are those who would love to see this experiment of Khalid’s fail.”

“More whispers to collect then,” Byleth clarified. “It would be easier not to join the procession at all then.”

“Exactly,” Tiana agreed. “Which is why this is where I leave you.” There was that sharp grin again as Tiana turned, heading back to the hustle and bustle around the royal party.

Byleth watched her go until Tiana disappeared back around the bend that would take her to her son, before looking around her own surroundings. Tiana had left her in what Byleth would call an alley, although being in a fort she was not sure if that was the correct term for it. It opened up onto a wider thoroughfare where an impromptu market had set up. The kitten poked its head out of her cloak, sniffing at the air. It mewled weakly up at Byleth, having caught the scent of something appealing. 

“All right then,” Byleth murmured. “Let’s see what we can find.”

She found herself able to blend into the crowd relatively easily. At one point a group of young girls stopped her to coo over the kitten. One produced a scrap of rough cotton fabric, her younger sister’s first failed attempt at making the material the girl’s family wove for a living, and offered it to Byleth to dry the cat off with. The kitten mewled in protest, which only made the girl’s coo harder. They shook their bell clad wrists at Byleth as they parted, wishing her luck and the blessings of the goddess.

Further on Byleth stopped at a stall serving roasted fish, the cat wiggling in her arms. The stall owner, a plump Almyran woman who looked used to stepping around a hoard of grandchildren, smelling of a dozen different spices, shot the cat a mock glare as it popped its head up. 

“Gone and found some fool to take you in then, troublesome girl?” the stall owner asked the cat.

“I take it she’s a frequent customer then?” Byleth asked lightly.

There was a pause, and then laughter from two sets of voices. As the stall owner slammed a hand against her countertop, Sothis chuckled pleasantly.  _ “I did not know you capable of jest,”  _ the young girl, possible manifestation of the goddess, giggled. (There were multiple long conversations over that possibility the past few weeks.)  _ “Perhaps that boy is more of a positive influence than I previously believed.” _

“Aye,” the stall owner was answering, drawing Byleth’s attention away from the conversation in her head. “And seems like she’s found a fine lass to take her in.” The woman held out a large hand for Byleth to shake, fingers bent from years of work. “Nousha, finest purveyor of fish in either Almyra or the Alliance.”

There was a bit of an outcry at that from the merchants around Nousha, many of whom seemed to be listening into her conversation with this newcomer. Nousha shot back at them, the group laughing good naturedly with one another at the thornless taunts.

Byleth thought of Khalid, and of how much he would enjoy this. There was a fair mix of Almyran and Fódlani here, and they already seemed to have developed a sense of community. The merchants were in competition with one another, but Byleth already saw more cheer than when she had passed through on her way into Almyra. In the months since, Khalid’s ideas of integration had had time to take hold, and seemed to be making those who now called the Locket home a tidy profit.

Sothis sighed dramatically, and Byleth could picture her resting her chin in her hand.  _ “I do wonder when the two of you will realize it.” _

Before Byleth could ask what she meant, the cat in her arms hissed, sinking back down into Byleth’s cloak.  _ “Hmm?”  _ Sothis mused in her head as Byleth’s eyes sought out what had disturbed the cat. 

The man’s features were common, an everyday passerby Byleth had seen a dozen times today alone, but there was something about the way his eyes shifted that set Byleth on edge. Nervousness shifting into hate, transforming back into desperation. There was sweat dripping from his brow despite the chill that surrounded them. 

Something in Byleth told her she needed to follow, especially when he began to take tentative steps toward the procession route, gaining confidence with each stride.

“Nousha,” Byleth breathed out in a rush. She held out the protesting kitten to the stall owner. “Can you watch her for a moment? I will be right back for her.”

Nousha stared at the cat being held out to her and then back at Byleth, eyebrows raised in complete surprise.

“Here,” Byleth added, producing a few coins. “I would like my new friend to have a good meal. I promise I will return with a nice jug of ale to share for the inconvenience.”

Nousha threw her head back and laughed, her large belly shaking. “All right, hand over the little monster. But you better be back soon, Miss Fancy Pants!” Nousha shouted at Byleth’s already retreating back. 

Byleth did not pause at the name, although it was certainly never one she had been called before, and wove her way into the crowd. She was thankful she would not have to drag the kitten along with her. She would hate if it somehow ended up hurt if there was a confrontation. 

Following the man was not easy, he blended into the crowd almost too well, leaving her to frantically search for the quickly filled in spaces he left in his wake. She would catch the hint of his tattered cloak or that mop of messy brown blond hair, and have to rush forward to ensure she did not lose him. Byleth could hear music now, the horns and drums that announced the presence of the royal party.

She had just caught sight of him again when he disappeared around a corner into one of the fort’s more narrow walkways. Byleth’s chest tightened as his cloak flared out for just a moment, and she caught sight of a dagger handle strapped to his side. She would know it anywhere. It looked exactly like the one Kronya had buried in Jeralt’s back.

Byleth cursed under her breath and sprinted to catch up. Cruel words were thrown at her back as Byleth shoved people out of her way, but she heard none of it. She was not about to let someone with that weapon hurt anyone here. She would not let them carry out whatever terrible plan they had come to fulfill.

She rounded the corner, eyes searching for her quarry. A soft sound, leather against tile, went almost unnoticed.  _ “The roof!” _ Sothis shouted as Byleth’s head was already tilting back. She saw the man’s shoes disappear over the lip of the roof of the building on her left. She did not waste any time, taking a running leap and managing to curl her fingers around the low overhang, wincing as the bells continued their disjointed tune. There was no way he had not heard the cacophony she just made. Her muscles strained in protest as she pulled herself up, every second seemingly agonizingly slow until she managed to pull her upper half onto the roof.

At the other edge of the building the man had stopped and was watching her with wide eyes. They stayed like that for a moment, staring back at one another. 

And then something broke, Byleth was not sure what, but the man turned and began to run across the rooftops. 

Well this was certainly not how Byleth saw her day going. She doubted Tiana would have imagined this either.

Byleth scrambled up, tearing the skirt of her dress all the way from the knee to the hem in the process. Winter air danced around her legs as Byleth chased after him, warm blood quickly chilling against her skin from where she had cut herself. She was going to have to convince Tiana to let her start training again as part of her studies. Byleth could already feel the ache in her legs and the burning in her lungs as she jumped across yet another gap between rooftops. 

Curses spilled from both of them as their feet slid on the icy material, multiple near misses for each of them as they scrambled back up to regain their footing. But despite the months without training, Byleth was gaining on the man. Whoever he was, this was certainly not an activity he was used to. He screamed wordlessly as Byleth leapt over a gap right on his heels, missing his cloak by inches. Byleth was certain if it were not for the music from the procession and cheers from the crowd, they would have drawn more than a few onlookers. 

But there was only one more rooftop before the man reached the procession. Whatever he was planning, Byleth had to stop him.

She pushed off the lip of the roof, giving herself a boost, and aimed to tackle the man. His scream was high pitched and wailing as he dodged to the side, Byleth unable to change her direction. There were murmurs below them and then screams. Khalid and Brida. Tiana. 

The power gathered at her fingertips before Byleth even realized what she was doing. That strange sense of the air freezing in her lungs overtook her, and suddenly she was running again. 

They were still a few rooftops away, and Byleth remembered how his cloak had fluttered past her hand. She could not let it happen again. Byleth leapt, the man screamed, the noise turning into a twisted yowl of pain as Byleth dropped and slid across the icy roof, slamming her feet into the back of his ankles. 

They went down hard, rolling together off the tiled roof and slamming onto the stone ground. A patch of snow broke their fall, but did little to soften the impact, leaving them both stunned and knocked the air from their lungs. Byleth’s teeth ground together as she forced herself onto her elbows, pinning the man beneath her. 

_ “That….that is not what I expected,” _ Sothis said as they both realized the man was pleading with Byleth rather than cursing and spitting at her.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he cried, tears running down his cheeks and freezing to his skin. “I have to. Please, you have to let me go! They have my daughter!” 

Byleth watched in horror as the man’s face seemed to elongate, the flesh stretching taunt so that she could see it tearing under the pressure. The man’s voice choked off, his skin turning ashen black, as if something terrible had burnt him from the inside out. She let out a small gasp as he fell apart beneath her hands, the cold shock of snow unexpectedly closing in around her fingers as she fell forward.

It was over quickly, Byleth left with only a pile of clothes beneath her. And, ah yes, there it was, the dagger she had spotted earlier. She snatched it up, giving one last look at the pile of discarded clothes, before heading back toward the crowds. She now doubted the man was with the same people Kronya served, but if they were watching Byleth would prefer not to be caught in an ambush. 

_ “I think you are right,” _ Sothis said as Byleth reached the outskirts of the market. Her eyes cast around the crowd for more trouble, but she felt a bit more at ease here. Hopefully there was not a second would be assassin willing to make a scene.  _ “That man was acting in desperation. Were he of the same cloth as Kronya, some more elaborate plan would be in play.” _

_ “Which is why we can’t drop our guard,” _ Byleth answered back.  _ “I need to get back to Tiana and let her know what happened. She’ll have the ability to increase security tonight without alerting anyone who doesn’t need to know of the change.” _

_ “True,”  _ Sothis agreed with a yawn, curling back up on her throne.  _ “Still, I wonder what that woman is actually planning. I would be surprised if she did not have just as many schemes in the works as her son.” _

Byleth remained silent, leaving it at that. She wove through the market, making one stop before arriving back at Nousha’s stall where she traded her newly acquired jug of ale for her kitten. Nousha raised an eyebrow at the state of her, but said nothing beyond insisting that Byleth have her own serving of fish. 

They were actually quite good. If Nousha was not the best in Almyra or the Alliance, she was certainly up there.

/

There was a moment where Byleth saw the surprise on Tiana’s face before the Dowager Queen recovered, her features settling into her usual sharp stare. 

“I see you had somewhat of an adventure,” she greeted. Her emerald eyes scanned over Byleth’s disgruntled state, waiting for an explanation. 

To be fair, Byleth had tried to clean herself up somewhat before slipping into Tiana’s room, but her dress was covered in mud and snow, torn in multiple places. She had managed to bandage up her leg, but with the amount of blood she had gotten on the skirt, the whole dress was probably unsalvageable. She did not even want to think about the state of her hair.

At least she had managed not to lose any of her bells. Perhaps that was a sign of good fortune after all.

The kitten did not make things better by jumping on Byleth’s shoulder and meowing up at Tiana.

The Dowager Queen simply raised an eyebrow at the kitten, who stared right back until it seemed to grow bored and began washing its paw. Tiana’s eyes went back to Byleth, a silent command to give her report.

Byleth leaned forward over the small table between them, placing the dagger in the center. She kept her eyes carefully trained on Tiana’s face, noting the way her eyes widened with surprise, quickly hardening with anger, before Tiana could cover up her emotions. 

The kitten leapt off Byleth’s shoulder, batting at the hilt of the dagger with its small paws. “Mâhi!” Byleth was quick to grab the cat, who yowled loudly in protest. It continued to try and swipe at the dagger, but Byleth held the creature in her lap until the kitten finally decided to calm down.

There was a sound that echoed through the room, and it took Byleth a moment to realize Tiana was trying to cover her laughter. But when Byleth’s eyes met hers, Tiana’s was unable to hold back. Her laughter was musical in quality. It did not make one want to join in like Khalid’s, but force the listener to stop and take note in an awed silence. 

“You named the cat Fish?” Tiana asked after a moment, the smile still on her lips. She looked very pretty like that.

Byleth nodded. “She jumped out of a barrel of salted fish, and still ate her weight in fish at the market. Therefore, she is Mȃhi.”

Tiana only laughed again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha you guys remember when I thought I could fit an entire year into one chapter? Wow, that was dumb.


	8. Pegasus Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. My apologizes to those of you who follow my other stories and already know, but as this is the last of my major stories I wanted to repeat the message. Updates will be slower and no longer on a schedule. I have been dealing with some health problems, and they are leaving me rather tired. I will update when I can.
> 
> That being said, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

“I do not know what you want me to say,” a voice snapped as Byleth reached the door. “It is the exact same as the other two! I am telling you this metal has never been used in anything else before.”

Khalid was standing just inside the room, angled away from the door just enough that it would prove difficult for someone to attack him from behind. His features were set in a mildly bored look as a dark haired person waved their arms around. Their copper skin was flushed as they finished their tirade, too distracted to notice their shirt had become half untucked. Their anger was clearly not directed at the king, but more at the situation itself. 

There was another person, his short silver hair tucked behind his ears, watching as the first stormed around a table littered with experimental instruments. He wore soft leather armor, the perfect shades of gray and brown to allow him to slip unnoticed into spaces he should not necessarily be. A pair of undecorated knives were strapped to his hips, weapons Byleth was certain saw constant use. 

“Galli,” Khalid said calmly, “I am not angry. You did exactly what I asked of you.”

“But I am!” Galli spun on their heel, their anger holding for a moment before the researcher slumped under the weight of their frustration. 

“Well, that is what I am here for.” The silver haired person pushed off the table and quickly kissed Galli’s cheek. “Stop your worrying and let me take care of it from here.”

Byleth turned to look at Khalid, convinced she had heard a soft laugh from him. Indeed, his lips were turned upward for a brief moment before he schooled his features again. “Xio, you do realize you  _ are  _ supposed to wait for me to give that order, right?”

Xio tilted his head back, a smile on his lips. His dusk colored skin and silver hair made Byleth think of Rown, a Duscaran who had joined their mercenary company after some tragedy within the Kingdom drove her out. 

“You were going to. And besides, part of my job is to anticipate the needs of the crown. So, my precious king, allow me to do my job.”

Khalid muttered something that only made Xio smile wider. He nodded to Byleth as he passed, shooting her a wink that had Khalid frowning at his back. 

“Byleth, come in,” Khalid greeted, motioning her in. 

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Galli turned on their heel and pointed an accusing finger at Byleth. “You! Get in here!”

Byleth blinked like a deer before the hunter, unsure of just what she had done to so anger this person. Khalid was also effectively cut off as Galli continued to ramble, the researcher’s attention going back to the daggers on their work table. “I need to know the details surrounding your acquisition of these.”

Byleth shrugged, shaking off her momentary shock. “The first ones I did not acquire. I only saw them when Kronya buried one in my father’s back and then again when I fought her. The other was on a man who I chased across the rooftops.” 

_ “Oh my,” _ was Sothis’ response to Byleth’s passive aggressive tone, feeling the anger at having to dredge up the memory of her father so suddenly.

Galli stared back at Byleth completely unimpressed. “Is that all?”

“It is exactly what I told you, Galli,” Khalid interjected, redirecting Galli’s attention. “I will allow Byleth to assist you  _ if _ she so wishes, but I do not know what more help she will be beyond the reports I provided for you.”

“She saw two of these used, and even felt the effects of one for herself. The likelihood she knows more than she realizes is astronomical,” Galli explained in the same thinly veiled annoyance. 

Khalid sighed heavily, neck rolling in dramatic fashion as he turned his eyes on Byleth. “Like I said, it is up to you if you wish to lend your time. I know Galli can be a bit rough around the edges, but they grow on you after awhile.”

Galli humped and stepped further back into the lab, emerging a moment later with a heavy apron for Byleth to wear. The researcher did look somewhat sheepish at being called out like so, and from her slowly expanding ability to read people, Byleth thought they had not meant to cause offense. She took the apron, the metal sewn within meant to protect her weighing heavily against her skin. “I’m not sure what help I can offer, but if I can do something to help against those who killed my father, I will.”

Galli seemed to soften ever so slightly for a brief moment, but that hard determination was back just as fast. They nodded their head and refocused on the daggers. “You may leave now,” Galli instructed Khalid. “I do not need unnecessary distractions.”

Khalid rolled his eyes, but Byleth thought he looked none too surprised at the dismissal. She got the impression that this was how many of their farewells went. “Play nice, Galli,” Khalid instructed, turning on his heel. He offered Byleth a brief wave before departing down the hall, the click of his boots against tile fading rapidly.

“Now, in your own words, describe how it felt when you were cut by one of these,” Galli instructed.

/

“What are you doing?”

“Fuck!”  _ Bam! Thud! _ “Shit. Ouch!”

Byleth stared at the Almyran king laying across the cobblestones of the garden path. Khalid sat up slowly, rubbing a hand across his bruised back. He was dressed in the clothes of a gardener, his hair held back by a forest green scarf without embroidery or embellishment. His attempt at pretending to not be nobility was certainly better than the few others Byleth had seen. The last one had certainly been the worst, some lordling needing to escape the people he had angered, his father paying their company to escort him safely to a summer house. He had whined and complained the entire time, to the point that Jeralt drank more heavily than usual once the job was done, letting slip how close he had come to stabbing the noble himself.

“I’m sorry,” Byleth apologized as Khalid waved off her offered hand of help. He managed to stand, wincing as he stretched his back. “I did not realize it was you.”

“Well, that was partly the point,” Khalid answered with a weak laugh. “Actually most of the point. What are you doing out here so late?” he asked, attempting to deflect attention away from himself.

“Galli just released me,” Byleth explained easily. 

Khalid blanched, eyes widening under the starlight. “What?” he gasped out. “It is well past midnight! I told them not to over do it!”

“It’s okay,” Byleth assured him. “I think something I said about how the blade affected me made them realize something. We were scouring the library for some old book for hours. They were swaying on their feet by the time we found it, so I leveraged my help tomorrow in exchange for them going to bed now.”

Khalid laughed, that low soft chuckle that made Byleth’s chest do the strange tight pull.  _ “You are smiling,” _ Sothis pointed out. Byleth could easily see her grinning down from her throne. But so what if she was smiling? Khalid was doing so as well.

“Seems I underestimated your ability to deal with difficult situations. I really should stop doing that.”

Byleth shrugged, trying to ignore the heat that pressed against her cheeks. “And you would be out here at this time of night because..?”

“Ah.” Khalid clicked his tongue, the smile fading from his face. That strange tightness seemed to sink, weighing on her as his features settled into a more thoughtful expression. “Sometimes it…” he trailed off, shaking his head against whatever explanation he was about to give. When he started again, there was something that was both lighter and heavier about the way he spoke, as if he were getting something off his chest while admitting some heretofore unspoken secret.

“Sometimes it all gets to be a little much,” Khalid said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. “I wanted the crown so that I could achieve my dreams, I don’t think there would have been another way to go about it. But the pageantry and prestige are...at the end of the day I know they are important, but I don’t need them to be happy. The clothes and the servants I could do without. Although, I admit, I am rather fond of the food.”

He sank down to sit upon one of the elegantly carved benches that decorated the private gardens while he spoke, his head tilting back to study the night sky. When he finished, Byleth slowly lowered herself into place beside him, careful not to sit too close and touch him accidentally. 

“In that case, I think you would be rather hopeless without the servants,” Byleth pointed out.

Khalid snorted, choking on his own laughter as he tried not to make too much noise. “Hey now! You don’t think I can cook my own meal?”

Byleth leveled an unamused look at him. “Khalid, I have seen you with dishes when you attempt to handle them yourself. No one who is usually so dexterous should be able to break so many in one night.”

“Hilda says I am cursed,” Khalid admitted. His head tilted back up to the stars, Byleth following his gaze upwards. “Perhaps she is right.” The way he said it made Byleth think he was no longer referring to simple plates.

Byleth was not sure how to answer that. She did not know what she could say that would make it better. Her fingers fidgeted with the trim of her sash, eyes locked on the stars. It was not uncomfortable, sitting in silence next to him, but she did not enjoy the heaviness that had settled between them.

“Do you know any of the constellations?” Khalid’s quiet voice asked, breaking Byleth out of her thoughts. 

“Not many,” Byleth admitted. She pointed up to the brightest star, tracing out the pattern her father had shown her when she was little. “That is the star we naviated by. It forms the prow of a ship, supposedly to guide us.”

“Hmm.” Khalid reached up, tracing out his own design. “We see a wyvern. It turns its head either to our enemies or towards home. And there, astride it-” he paused, tracing another pattern, “-is Akhtar. When she drew her last breath, the spirits immortalized her in starlight. Her spear points to Kamaria, her other half and greatest opponent, so that they need never be apart again.” 

Byleth turned, meaning to ask what he meant, but her breath caught in her throat. Khalid had leaned close, his attention focused on the sky. The cool night air carried the scents of cinnamon and pine to her. He had no idea how near he was, too focused upon his story. And oh yes, there were words coming from his mouth, but Byleth was caught up in the way the moonlight illuminated his lips; the way the starlight caught his eyes. Khalid had dropped his guards, and for once he looked genuine. That smile on his lips, so very small and precious, it matched his eyes and Byleth could not tear her own away. 

Khalid’s brow creased and his head turned toward her. Byleth only then realized that he must have asked her something, and her lack of response was concerning. “Byleth?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I must be more tired than I thought.” She was not sure what else could cause her inability to focus, not even when Sothis ‘hrumph’ed at her.

“Ah, of course!” Khalid swept up from his seat, and for a moment it seemed like he would offer Byleth his arm before he hesitated. “I should not have kept you so long.”

Byleth did not like the sound of that. There was a note of finality to it that made her panic. “Perhaps if I ever happen to run into you here you could tell me about the stars again,” she suggested. 

A brief flicker of surprise crossed his face before it softened. “Should we ever meet here again, I would be happy to do so.”

/

“You look terrible,” Tiana greeted her as Byleth sat down at the small private breakfast table. Mȃhi, the traitor that he was, was curled happily upon the table beside the Dowager Queen, purring as she absentmindedly petted him.

Byleth did not answer, instead pouring herself a cup of tea. She breathed the wonderfully pungent scent, the bitter taste helping to wake her when it hit her tongue. 

“I do hope you can manage to put yourself together by tomorrow,” Tiana said, a note of dark amusement to her words. “I was thinking you ready to join the festivities at court.”

That certainly did the job of fully waking her. Byleth set down her cup and gave Tiana her full attention. “I am to collect whispers for him then?”

Tiana nodded lightly. Mȃhi glared up at her when she reached for a pastry in favor of continuing to pet him. “It is time to put you to use.”


	9. Lone Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurt my back. Haven't been able to write for awhile, so this chapter took me forever. This year is kicking me a lot guys. I do apologize for the updates taking so long anymore.

The joyful sound of music and laughter surrounded Byleth in its embrace when she entered the hall. Spices and perfumes mingled together to create a uniquely pleasant smell. Colorful silks and cottons swirled around her as she moved through the crowd, trying to act as if she belonged there.

It was one thing to walk with confidence and self assurance when she had a sword in her hand and knew where to point it, but this was a much different battlefield. Byleth took a breath, remembering what it felt like when she led her father's mercenaries into a fight. Tiana had said the court was a war zone, and Byleth would need to adapt quickly. She could do this.

She had not gone very far before someone was wrapping their arm around her own. Byleth's head whipped around to see Matti drawing her close, and forced herself to relax so that the motion seemed natural. "You look ready to snap a few necks," Matti whispered to her. "Grace will go far here, my dear."

Byeth was surprised to see the dancing instructor, but followed her lead as Matti began to guide her through the crowd. She had not seen Matti since her private audience with Khalid. "Matti, I'm sorry-" Byleth began, but Matti hushed her.

"Not here. We can discuss that later. For now, loosen your stance. There you go. Yes, treat it like a dance."

It felt somewhat strange after the past few months of allowing her body to go back to its old habits to once more reach for the graceful movements Matti had taught her, but Byleth managed to do so without tripping over her own feet. 

"There, much better," Matti complimented. "Now, onto the matter of why you are here. Look around. What do you see?"

Byleth did as Matti bid, her eyes scanning over the room, taking in one thing before moving onto the next. The court was filled with warriors, not a surprise given how Almyra valued them. Only Khalid's personal guard wore armor. Those here as observers wore garments of light cotton, designed for easy movement. They had daggers at their hips, a necessity for any Almyran, a point of pride and honor.

“Couriters,” Byleth answered.

Matti snorted and shook her head. “Why did I expect anything but bluntness from you?”she more chided herself than Byleth. “No, Byleth,” she said more softly. “This is your new battlefield. Figure out who your friends are fast, otherwise your enemies will swallow you up.”

“Ah! There you are!” Before Byleth could respond, Hilda’s pink head was poking through the crowd. She nodded to Byleth, but her attention was on Matti. “Tiana needs you before the doors open.”

Matti sighed, clicking her tongue as if she were being put out. She patted Byleth’s hand before letting go. “Remember what I said. Be careful and keep your ears open.”

And then Byleth was alone again. She wandered past two old men playing a game of chess, a group of young women eating candied fruits, yet more soldiers boasting about old scars. It all blended together in a fascinating little world.

A low quiet passed over the room, a deep rumble underneath it all, as Khalid entered with Brida a few steps behind. He greeted those he passed, making him seem more accessible than many nobles Byleth had dealt with before. Her eyes tracked him as Khalid made his way to his throne, sinking onto it gracefully. As soon as he was in position, that rumbling feeling beneath the silence disappeared. 

“I am curious,” a smooth voice whispered in Byleth’s ear. She was so focused on watching Khalid she had not noticed the man coming up beside her, had not realized his attention was even focused on her in the first place. “How much has Tiana taught you about our customs?”

Byleth turned her head, studying him with that penetrating stare that unnerved so many. To his credit, the man did not flinch. His long black hair was pulled back, his full beard neatly groomed. His finely pressed cotton clothes were embroidered with gold thread, and the dagger at his hip was finely crafted, a large ruby embedded into his pommel. Someone important then.

“Dowager Queen Tiana has taught me many things,” Byleth said pointedly, displeased with the man’s lack of respect in dropping Tiana’s title. “I am unsure of why that would concern you.”

The man’s lips turned in a smirk, as if she had just told a joke. “Anyone who so closely has the ear of the king is of interest to me.” The man bowed his head, dark eyes never leaving Byleth. She felt the motion was more mockery than respect. “Prince Kardar al Almyra, second son of the late King Darius the Forth and Lady Fairuza.”

Byleth recognized the name immediately from Tiana’s lessons. Kardar had backed his older brother for the throne, but navigated the conflict craftily enough upon his death and Khalid’s ascent to keep his head. Byleth had no idea where Kardar’s alliances were now, but she was not about to drop her guard.

She lowered her head, acknowledging Kardar’s status. She was not sure what to do after that. It was a prime opportunity to test Kardar’s loyalty, but he was a dangerous opponent who had played this game far longer than her.

“Indulge me,” Kardar said, gesturing his hand to the court before them. “These things are always so tedious, I must admit I am using you for a bit of fun.”

Well at least he admitted it.

Byleth studied him for a long moment, until somewhere a horn blew and the doors of the throne room were flung open. Her eyes turned to the movement, but she made sure to keep Kardar in the corner of her sight, carefully watching his reactions. “The petitioners,” she began with a nod to the five people being shown forward by a set of guards. Kardar’s eyes lit up, seeing that Byleth was going to play along. None of these people were allowed to keep their daggers at their hips, all wearing empty sheaths. “Are shown to one of the council members. They attempt to solve the petitioner’s request, but if they cannot the petitioner is sent to the king.” 

Byleth finished, her eyes lingering on Khalid. He was watching his council members with sharp eyes. It seemed appropriate that this was the most kingly she had ever seen him look. 

“A rather  _ succinct  _ way to put it,” Kardar mused, the derision he snuck into the word not matching the smile on his lips. 

Byleth remained silent, watching as Tiana spoke with a farmer who was twisting his hat in his hands. The Dowager Queen sat patiently as the man worked his way through his request, seemingly not bothered as he occasionally stumbled in his awe. 

To her left, Nader was speaking to a soldier who was gesturing wildly the longer she spoke. 

Byleth knew the names of the other council members, but had to guess to which faces they belonged to. The Minister of Finance was an honorable man according to Tiana, too obsessed with making sure his books balanced and happy to be left to that duty, looking somewhat rumpled enough that Byleth could imagine someone dragging him from his office to fulfill his duty in the throne room. 

Sera had to be the woman on his other side. The Minister of Interior Affairs looked bored by the exchange she was having with a well dressed man, most likely a merchant. Byleth had passed Sera’s office before, seen the numerous maps of the city the woman had drawn with her own hands and the constructions of the future plans she had. It was obvious that was where Sera would rather be at the moment. 

At the far end of the table, opposite Tiana, sat the final council member present for the day. This had to be Khalid’s Grand Chancellor, if the gold badge of office around his neck was anything to go by. Another inheritance from Khalid’s father, Behnam could not be removed from his position without many of the old guard taking offense. Which left his position secured, until Khalid caught him in some sort of treachery and could force him out. Tiana had always scowled during Byleth’s lessons when Behnam’s name was mentioned.

“This is typically how it goes,” Kardar explained lazily. “Whenever Khalid takes a Queen she will be expected to judge cases as well. A pity he seems in no hurry to find one. She would certainly lighten his load.”

“He seems to be doing fine,” Byleth answered. She watched Khalid speak to the warrior who Nader had directed to him. His brows creased slightly, his head resting in his hand, but he seemed far from disinterested. As he listened, the woman’s anger seemed to diminish as she was allowed to present her case without judgement.

It was then Byleth realized how quiet the room had become. All eyes were locked on Khalid and the warrior, including those of the council members and the other petitioners. 

“It is not often a case is sent to the King,” Kardar whispered, leaning in close so his voice would not disturb the silence of the room. “It does tend to capture everyone’s attention when it does happen.”

The room was still now, enough that Byleth could hear the end of the soldier’s speech. “...it is an abuse of power.”

She held out a scroll, Brida stepping forward to transfer it between her and Khalid. Khalid’s eyes darkened as he read off the paper, studying it before he turned his attention back to the woman. “These are grievous accusations you bring against your commander.”

“Someone had to,” the woman responded, unflinching. “She had abused her honor and forsaken her oath to the crown.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from several people all at once. Khalid’s green eyes narrowed as they turned to Nader, summoning him to the throne’s side. “There is to be an investigation into this immediately. Remove this commander from her duties for the duration, but see that the process is completed quickly. And place her,” he continued with a tilt of his head toward the soldier before him, “under guard until it is finished.”

“Smart,” Kardar said softly, although he did not sound all that impressed. When Byleth’s eyes flickered to him he leaned in close once more, warm breath brushing over her cheek. “It is no small thing this soldier has accused her commander of. And a commander of that status would easily have the resources to ensure some sort of tragedy befell out friend here.”

So Khalid was putting the soldier under guard for her own protection. Byleth nodded her understanding, but did not speak. Let Kardar form his own conclusions about her, and if he came to underestimate her so much the better. 

The soldier was led off by Nader, the council table now down to four. The low chatter had just returned, the ministers summoning forth new petitioners, when the Chancellor’s sharp voice barked and froze everyone in place.  _ “What!” _ Even Kardar looked genuinely surprised, that vague disassociated look of amusement dropping from his face for a brief moment. 

The Chancellor grabbed the petitioner’s wrist, a scared looking middle aged man whose best clothes were graying at the edges and seemed as if he would prefer to curl up on himself and hide, physically dragging him before Khalid’s throne. “Repeat what you just told me,” the Chancellor ordered.

The man was trembling so badly Byleth was more surprised they could not hear his teeth chattering together as he shook than the fact he did not answer. The Chancellor, face red with fury, opened his mouth to shout another order, but Khalid held up his hand to cut him off. 

The king’s eyes were softer when he turned to the petitioner. “You certainly got my Chancellor all flustered,” Khalid said lightly. “I have not seen him this riled up since I was a child and managed to spill an entire wine jug on his new robes.” Behnam did not seem amused at the reminder of the memory, or with the wink Khalid shot him, but Khalid’s words had the desired effect. Byleth could feel some of the tension leave the room. 

The petitioner, still shaking, finally raised his head. “Come now,” Khalid encouraged. “Tell me what has happened.”

“Y-your Majesty,” the man stumbled, “I am a wyvern breeder, not as prestigious as those under your employee, but I take pride in my flock. They are hardy beasts.” It was obvious the man was not used to speaking without the cant of those who occupied the outer edges of the city, and was rather focused on trying to say the right words even as they fumbled in his mouth. 

Khalid nodded, acknowledging the man’s words without interrupting. The man gulped loudly before taking in a deep breath to continue. “Two days ago, one of my sows had a batch of hatchlings break their shells. One...one was pure white.”

There was that stillness again as everyone held a collective breath. Even Byleth knew the importance of a white wyvern. They were the very symbol of the Almyran crown.

“I-I waited a day, in case the color faded,” the man explained. “They do that sometimes right after they hatch, but her coloring stayed. I was going to inform the royal breeders, but last night the hatchling-” He cut himself off, starting to tremble again under the gaze of the court. Khalid remained silent, his face grave, as if he knew what was coming next would not make the rest of his day pleasant. Another swallow before the petitioner spoke, his voice so soft Byleth had to strain her ears to hear.

“Thieves broke in and stole the hatchling.”

A quiet explosion erupted through the room. Byleth could feel it, feel the heat in the air settle around them all. Next to her, Kardar’s hand instinctively rested on the pommel of his dagger, his brown eyes dangerously sharp. Byleth could easily tell how displeased he was.

_ “True, but there seems more to it. Do you not agree?” _

Byleth did, but she did not answer a now awake Sothis. The girl’s anticipation at watching what would happen next did not much help Byleth’s own nerves. She found herself wishing Esther was with her, able to use her ability to read people and advise Byleth.

“They injured the sow,” the petitioner continued, words spilling forth now that he had traversed the difficult part. His speech slipped back into that cant Byleth had not heard since she entered the palace. “Burnt down the stables in their escape. I managed to save the rest of my wyverns, but my sow refuses to eat. Won’t let noone near her remaining little ones. I have no resources to pursue these thieves myself, not without abandoning the rest of the flock.”

Khalid stood from his throne, once more draped in the cloak of regality. “Show me,” he ordered, sweeping the man up with him as he exited the throne room. Brida and a half dozen guards fell into step behind him with a chilling precision. 

“Well now,” Kardar murmured as the room began to move once the group left, the rest of the petitioners forgotten as the council members followed the king’s example, “that is certainly a development. You will have to excuse me,” Kardar directed at Byleth.

She barely had time to blink before he was lost in the crowd.

/

“Do you understand what happened?” Matti questioned. 

Her arm was wrapped around Byleth’s, the two strolling through the gardens at a snail’s pace. In fact, they had actually paused to watch a snail make its way across a leaf. It was all much more pleasant than the chaos that had erupted in the throne room after Khalid’s departure. Matti had taken Byleth’s apologies easily, simply insisting Byleth not abuse her kindness again, and then demanded a stroll outside while the rest of the palace buzzed with activity.

Byleth thought for a moment before shaking her head. “Not fully,” she admitted. “I know what the white wyvern symbolizes, but not why it is an issue for Khalid himself.”

“White wyverns are rare,” Matti explained. She tilted her head back, enjoying the sunlight. The tiny wrinkles around her eyes crinkled as if she were losing herself in an old memory. But the moment passed, and Matti quickly returned to teaching. “Once in a generation rare. They are not necessary to claim the crown, but earning the trust of one certainly does not hinder a candidate's chances. Khalid would most likely have gifted that hatchling to his chosen heir, whether it be a child a few years from now or someone else he deemed worthy.”

“So by stealing it, they are attacking Khalid’s legacy?” Byleth said in more of a question, unsure if she was following correctly. 

But Matti nodded in confirmation. “Yes. The theft of that hatchling was an attack on the king himself. Khalid cannot let it go unanswered.”

Tiana had told Byleth of the struggles Khalid faced, even after claiming the throne. She had spent maybe half an hour in court and seen it for herself. Perhaps that was why it was so rare to see his smile reach his eyes.

/

It was not Tiana, but Khalid himself, who waited for her at Sunday breakfast. Byleth had not seen him since his exit from the throne room earlier that week. She dropped as elegantly as she could into her chair, using the movement to study him. There was a sharp edge to his smile, but it wavered under the weight of exhaustion. She could see it in the way his shoulders slumped and the trouble he was having with even keeping his eyes open.

“Good morning, Byleth,” Khalid greeted, nodding his thanks as she refilled his tea. Mȃhi meowed loudly, pawing at the king’s arm as Khalid tore off a piece of breakfast meat and fed it to him. That cat already had them all too well trained. “Tell me, what did you and Kardar discuss a few days ago.”

Direct and to the point, just as Byleth herself often was with him. She respected that. “Of course I will,” Byleth answered. “Just as soon as you get some sleep.”

Khalid first blinked in surprise, then his eyes narrowed in barely concealed anger, before settling on amusement. “Are you really keeping information hostage from me?”

“Until you are awake enough to actually process it, yes,” Byleth said matter of factly. “There is a comfortable couch just inside the study. Get yourself at least an hour of sleep, and then we will discuss Kardar.” 

He tried to look stern, he really did, but his resolve crumbled all too easily. Khalid shook his head, a laugh slipping from his lips before he could stop himself. He stood, almost falling over now that he was no longer trying to keep himself together. Byleth watched as he stumbled his way over to the couch she had pointed out and all but face planted onto the cushions. 

An hour later, and no, Byleth had not yet tried to rouse Khalid with how fast and deeply he had fallen asleep, Byleth’s breakfast was interrupted by Esther’s high gasp. When Byleth turned to look behind her, Esther’s eyes were wide, staring between Byleth and the dozing Khalid. Byleth placed a finger over her lips, to which Esther nodded vigorously, turning on her heel and leaving them alone once more.

Byleth was not sure what all that was about. She turned back to the pastries, pulling off a piece of flaky crust and feeding it to a happily purring Mȃhi curled up in her lap, Khalid’s gentle snore her background music.


	10. Great Tree Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I know it has been awhile since I've updated. I've been kind of stressed out after posting the last few times, so I worked on creating a backlog. This story is going back on a schedule of being updated every other Sunday now! (And yes, I did add another chapter to the outline. I've given up on trying to stop it.)
> 
> A huge thank you to Mads and Alex for helping beta this chapter!

Lysithea and Tamora showed up at Byleth’s door in the late morning, without any real prompting as far as she could tell. They refused the offered tea, instead asking if Byleth would care to join them on their outing. 

“The library?”

“Yes,” Lysithea answered while Tamora nodded. “We were not sure if anyone had shown it to you yet. The palace has its own private collection, of course, but the university one is much more expansive.”

“We thought you might wish to learn more of Almyra’s history and culture, beyond what the Dowager Queen’s tutors have the time to share with you.” Tamora’s voice was soft but steady. Byleth felt a kinship with her. The way Tamora spoke and held herself was the same way Byleth did, but whereas Byleth’s neutral stance was more an aftereffect, an unconscious effort, Tamora leaned into and embraced the way in which she carried herself. Byleth had met the woman a few times, mostly in the presence of Lysithea or Galli, and had never heard her voice raise beyond just a whisper, and yet she still managed to make everyone hear her words. She said it was a Morfian skill.

“I would, yes,” Byleth answered.

Esther was already there when Byleth turned around, holding out a shawl to make Byleth’s outfit a bit more formal. Byleth paused long enough to grab a belt and her dagger before rejoining Tamora and Lysithea. 

It was the first time Byleth had left the palace grounds since the New Year’s event. The sun was no different, but somehow it felt warmer as they stepped through the gates. Although, perhaps that was simply an old part of Byleth making itself known again. She had never stayed in one place for so long after all. Her father had moved them often while on jobs, almost as if they themselves were running from something, making the road more of their home than any one place.

Lysithea and Tamora began debating some magical theory, something about an improvement on some lamps they had created, of which the finer details Byleth could not make sense of. Still, she kept one ear on the conversation, picking up what she could, while her eyes swept over the nobles, servants, and merchants allowed this near to the palace. 

“It is the most expansive estate in the capital,” Lysithea paused to explain as they reached the curling iron gates depicting two large sphinx, already thrown open, students spilling through the entrance in droves. Perfectly manicured gardens framed the long walkway, smaller pathways branching out to other buildings as it rolled out to the one that loomed before them. It looked large enough to house the entire harem complex comfortably within it.

“More so than the palace,” Lysithea continued. “Darius was already generous with the funds he sent here, but Khalid doubled that when he ascended the throne.”

“The university is a point of pride for many Almyrans. Every book that comes into the city is copied and housed here, so that it may be preserved and shared,” Tamora added on. “Although I doubt that little bit of information is likely to have made its way across the Throat just yet.”

Lysithea’s cheeks puffed out with rage at the slight to her homeland. She opened her mouth just as they passed through the doors into the large building, but a man dressed in white robes and an impeccable sense of timing swept over to them, bowing his head in greeting. 

“Honored ladies, what can I assist you with?” he asked. His voice was even softer than Tamora’s, and he stared at them with a critical eye as if he knew they had been about to argue and interrupt the silence. 

“I would like to see the tome I was reading last time,” Tamora answered, launching straight into business.

“Of course,” the librarian answered, turning to wait for Lysithea and Byleth’s requests.

“I can find my way to the magical studies section. And I will show Byleth to the history section. Would you like to browse for a bit? He can check on you after he helps Tamora, to see if there is anything that catches your eye.”

Byleth nodded, not really having a preference herself. The librarian bowed before turning back to Tamora. “Very well. This way, my lady.”

“Tamora is currently working with some of the older books,” Lysithea explained in a whisper as they passed beneath the arch of the vestibule and into the library proper. “Not even Khalid is allowed in that section without an escort. Some of those books are worth as much as the crown jewels.”

“Truly?” Byleth replied, blinking in surprise. She could not picture a book worth as much as a jewel. They were more useful, certainly, but she had seen the way some nobles squabbled over their shiny things. 

Lysithea nodded seriously, taking them around a corner. Byleth was trying to keep track of all their turns, but the place was huge. The ceiling soared above them, books stacked all the way to the top. Byleth was not sure if she had ever seen so much of anything in one place altogether before. There was something magical in and of itself being surrounded by the quiet and the smell of books, of the thought that so much knowledge and stories were at her fingertips. 

“Here we go,” Lysithea finally said, halting before a section of books. Byleth was not sure how she could tell these were the particular ones she was looking for. “This whole section is history, but these specifically are on the relations between Almyra and Fódlan. When you find one you want to read, use one of the leather markers,” she paused to point at the thick bookmarks hanging from hooks on some of the shelves, “to mark where you took it from. You can sit at any of the tables we passed, and if it gets too dark there are lamps. Simply take the stone from the lantern and hold it in your hands for a few minutes. Your warmth will make it glow for a few hours.”

Byleth stared at Lysithea, the earlier conversation making more sense. “The lamps you and Tamora made?”

Lysithea went rigid, flushing at Byleth’s question. “Having fire around this much paper is an accident waiting to happen, and we were tired of being told to leave at sundown.” She waved it off, failing miserably at making it seem like it was no big deal.

“If you need anything, there are librarians everywhere. They all wear the same robes as the one we encountered at the front. Just ask them.” Lysithea’s words spilled from her in a hurry before she turned on her heel and went to go find her own books.

/

Now that she knew it was there, Byleth sought out the palace library a few days later. It was certainly nowhere near as large as the university, but nothing to scoff at either. After she had left the dining hall, Byleth followed the directions Tamora had given her rather than going back to her own chambers. Sothis had not been pleased at the lack of discovery about her own condition at the university, and so while Byleth had a moment of free time she figured she might as well look.

Unfortunately, Byleth did not have much luck with the palace library either. After an hour of perusing book titles, Sothis huffed in her head.  _ “For a celebrated library, they certainly do not seem to have much knowledge,”  _ the maybe-goddess grumbled.

_ “Not on the matter you wish to pursue at any rate,” _ Byleth answered back, careful to keep the comment confined to her mind.

Sothis glowered before it gave way to a yawn. She stretched her arms out above her head.  _ “Very well then. Go about your own search to broaden your horizons.” _

_ “Thank you for the permission,” _ Byleth commented dryly, a smirk briefly curling on her lips. 

Sothis, now curled up on her throne, cracked open one eye.  _ “Insolent child,”  _ she grumbled before her eye fell shut again and she buried her head in her arms.

Byleth left Sothis to her sleep, placing the book back in its place on the shelf before wandering down the stacks. She found herself once more in the history section, this one smaller and dedicated to the royals that had come before Khalid. She scanned titles that hinted at the heroes and intrigue within. And then one particular title caught her eye.  _ A Collection of Letters written by Shideh, the First Wife. _ The gold filigree stamped into the spin of the book had mostly flecked off, making the title rather hard to make out until Byleth leaned in close. It was thin, no more than fifty pages. Time seemed to have done a number on the volume, but the closer Byleth looked, she could pick out the details of reconstruction that had saved it.

Byleth took the book to one of the study tables, exact copies of the ones in the university, and settled in to read. As soon as she opened the book, she knew she was on the right track to answer at least one of her questions.

_ Year 805, 5 Verdant Rain _

_ When I entered Cyrus’s court, I thought I would be forgotten. My place in his harem was to appease our father, the price of his loyalty. They acted as if it were some honor, but I know the truth. I think even you, my beloved sister, as young as you were then, understood. _

_ But Cyrus is - Kind is not the right word, sister, but he shows a softness with me that I did not expect. I was so determined to be a shadow, I never expected to bask in the light of his laugh. _

_ Year 807, 17 Guardian Moon _

_ I am a fool, sister. Go ahead. You can say it. By now I am sure news of Cyrus’s favoritism towards me has reached you. He visits me often, always bringing with him some small token of his affection. It has put a target on my back, not least from the Queen herself. But me, ever the constant fool, cannot help but take them with a happy heart. _

Byleth skimmed through the next few letters, which detailed the inner workings of the Almyran harem over three hundred years ago, and while she would under other circumstances have found them enlightening, she could feel her fingers closing around the information she sought, and it demanded her attention.

_ Year 810, 23 Red Wolf Moon _

_ He seeks to make me an enemy of the Queen. Although, I suppose I was that long ago. Cyrus wishes to marry me, as the rest of Almyra claims spouses. The Queen had her coronation, but never the ceremony that binds them together as such. I pointed out that this was assumed when he placed the crown on her head, but Cyrus says it is the perfect loophole. _

_ For what? You may ask. Dear sister, the crazy fool wishes to marry me. _

_ Truthfully, sister, I wish to marry him as well. I have gone mad and fallen in love with him. I tried so hard to deny it, but I cannot do so any longer. I love him, with all my heart, I love him. _

_ Year 812, 25 Red Wolf Moon _

_ I am his wife now in all but name. I spend my nights in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and I wake up to his smiles every morning as he kisses me so sweetly. Were Cryus not king, I think we would have run away together, settled in some little fishing village, and lived the rest of our days content. _

_ Although, the idea of me cooking every night is amusing, is it not? _

_ Year 812, 30 Red Wolf Moon _

_ Please forgive the mess in this latest letter. My hand is shaking as I write. He might actually pull it off! I shall write more once I have calmed. _

_ Year 812, 13 Ethereal Moon _

_ Once more, I am sure with everything going on, news has reached you before my letter. But I wish you, of all people, to have the entire picture. _

_ The Queen and Cyrus fought, before the entire court, Cyrus proposed to me, and the Queen challenged him for the dishonor he continued to throw at her. Cyrus refused to retract his proposal, and so they dueled. It was a fierce battle. I am not sure if I breathed the entire time. The Queen was ruthless with her axe, but Cyrus was quick and precise with his sword. Eventually, they fought each other to a stand still, neither able to lift their weapons anymore. _

_ And so came the compromise. The Queen would consent to our marriage so long as I had no political power, officially at any rate, and her children would be first in line to take the trails of the crown. Cyrus agreed, and so in a few days we are to be wed! I shall be the king’s wife! _

_ The Queen then proceeded to trip Cyrus on their way from the ring, but he took it in stride. He says he probably deserves a little humiliation for how he has neglected her while swooning over me. To be fair, Cyrus and the Queen are first and foremost political partners. There is a love between them from a shared duty, and a fondness for the sake of their children. But I think the Queen is happy to have someone else occupying his time. _

_ Now, for the not publicly known part of the story. Cyrus and I had tea with the Queen the day before all this happened. They had already come to this agreement, and whomever won was supposed to present the compromise as a peace offering of sorts. The show of force was simply necessary to prove their strength is still formidable, and neither will be walked over so easily. _

_ So now I am Cyrus’s wife, and the Queen remains the Queen. Her power shall remain unchallenged by me.  _

_ Sister, I love him so much. It was worth it, all of it, to be at his side. _

Byleth turned the page, her ears picking up the almost silent padding of footsteps, stopping near her. The rest of the pages were filled with words of love and joy, ending on sorrow at Cyrus’s untimely death, killed by a stray arrow through his eye. 

“It’s going to look suspicious when you have to go sneaking back to your room.”

“Perhaps I intended to stay until morning and circumvent that problem,” Byleth answered, relaxing as she immediately recognized the voice. “Although, I fail to see how you’re not in the same boat as me.”

“A woman of learning, after my own heart,” Khalid said in melodramatic fashion as he slid into the seat across from Byleth. “And it  _ is  _ my palace. I am allowed to go about at night.”

“Is that why you ditched Nader and your guards?”

Khalid waved her off, the motion only half successful in hiding his grin. There were more of those lately, and they made Byleth respond in kind before she could even think about what she was doing. He leaned forward, taking a peak at Byleth’s book. “Oh, Shideh. I have not seen that book in awhile.”

“I finally see the difference between a wife and a queen,” Byleth said lightly, shutting the book and setting it on the table between them.

For the barest flicker of a second, Khalid’s eyes went wide. “Mother did not-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Of course she didn’t.”

Byleth watched as Khalid sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair for a more comfortable position. “Cyrus and Shideh started the separation, but they are one of the few couples it went well for. Shideh and Queen Elaheh actually became lovers themselves after Elaheh secured the crown for herself following Cyrus’s death. But it is an uncommon thing for a ruler to practice. Causes strife if they aren’t careful. You have met my brother, Kardar, right?” Khalid waited for Byleth’s nod before continuing. “His namesake, King Kardar who ruled about two centuries ago or something, crowned one of his generals in order to keep his army together. But then he married the enemy commander, and his queen did not take well to it. My grandfather, however, used the practice to make his lover into his husband and extend him the protection of the crown.”

“So, the ruler crowns whomever is politically advantageous, but can propose to whomever he loves as well?”

“Ah.” Khalid rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, and Byleth could swear she saw the hint of a blush. “That would be another thing that has changed over the centuries. I’m a little foggy on the details there, but it’s now tradition that any concubine in the king’s bed when the sun comes up is then his wife.”

Byleth stared at him, not understanding. “What is the purpose of that?”

“Less chance of conflict. Doing a public proposal causes a stir. Well, any proposal does, but when done silently as such, the reactions are usually behinded whispered hands and not up-front challenges to the decision.”

“Meaning there is less conflict with the co-crowned ruler, and the spouse has less power.” Byleth was so used to Tiana trailing off and waiting for Byleth to prove she understood the topic, that she answered Khalid’s non question easily when he did the same.

Khalid snapped his fingers together and grinned. “Bingo. Of course, that leads to its own intrigues and plots to stay in the king’s bed until morning, but that’s a topic for another time.”

The king stood and stretched with an exaggerated yawn. “Come on. It’s late and we should both get some rest.”

Byleth nodded, quickly returning the copy of Shideh’s letters to the shelf before following Khalid out of the library. They walked in comfortable silence back toward the inner chambers of the harem, none of the guards daring to stop Byleth with Khalid at her side.

It felt nice, peaceful almost. There was a flutter in Byleth’s chest, almost as if her heart was protesting its unbeating nature.

He walked her all the way back to her room. Byleth was not sure, her ability to read social cues still somewhat lacking, but it seemed as if Khalid lingered, having to shake himself out of whatever thoughts were occupying his mind. “Good night, Byleth.”

“Good night, Khalid,” Byleth answered back, not sure why her voice sounded so weak. 

Khalid nodded, that soft smile she enjoyed seeing on his lips as he walked away.

/

Tiana did not join Byleth that Sunday for the first time since they had started their weekly breakfasts. She found herself sitting alone at the table, feeling somewhat lonely. That seemed ridiculous to her when she thought about it. She had been alone before, had spent most of her life with only her father at her side. 

_ “You have grown used to them,” _ Sothis responded to Byleth’s unspoken question.  _ “I do believe you might be fond of your life here.” _

_ “How long will that last? Khalid made his deal with me for only a year. Where will I go after that?” _

_ “Oh child.” _ Sothis sighed as she leaned back in her throne, staring at Byleth with sad eyes.  _ “Do you truly think you will not have a home when this year is up?” _

Byleth did not answer. Sothis spoke as if she knew something Byleth did not, and Byleth knew the maybe-goddess in her head would make her figure it out herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading everyone. Next chapter will be up Nov. 8th.


	11. Harpstring Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thank you to Mads for helping me edit this chapter.

Byleth was not sure what to make of the strange sight before her. Mâhi, however, decided he did not like what he saw, and hissed loudly from his protected location within her arms.

The servant’s head shot up, surprised by Byleth’s previously unnoticed approach. “Is there something I can help you with? Or was there a need to make my friend uncomfortable?”

The man, dressed in fine silks and wearing the badge of Kardar’s household, stepped back from Esther. His face remained stoic, and he even gave a sharp nod of his head, something resembling a bow. “Apologies, my lady,” he said smoothly. “I was simply attempting pleasantries. In my desire not to disturb any of the king’s beloved household, I stepped a tad too close to your honorable handmaid.”

Byleth blinked at him as he bowed stiffly, keeping his rigid posture. It took Byleth catching Esther nodding exaggeratedly at her from her spot behind the man for Byleth to realize he was waiting to be dismissed. Byleth gave her own pointed nod, and the servant backed up a respectable distance before turning on his heel and fleeing as fast as he could while maintaining his dignity. 

Esther cursed at his back once he was gone, Byleth’s brows rising ever so slightly at the harsh word. Her friend was still grim faced when she turned back to Byleth. “He is a snake, that one,” Esther spat.

“What did he want from you?”

Esther took a deep breath, not that it seemed to do any good at releasing her anger, but her voice softened enough to speak clearly. “I believe he was attempting to gather information on you, my lady.”

Byleth suppressed her urge to shudder at the title. “Please, Esther, I know I cannot get everyone to stop calling me that, but I would prefer you of all people not to call me by a title.”

“In the privacy of your rooms I relent to your request,  _ my lady, _ but not out here in the halls.” Byleth was relieved to hear some of that gentle teasing slipping back into Esther’s words. It seemed wrong for the naturally calm woman to become upset at anything.

Byleth shook her head, but relented. “What did he want to know about me?” she asked, returning to the part of Esther’s comment she really should have focused on first.

“Anything really,” Esther replied. They began walking the halls back to Byleth’s rooms, keeping their voices low so as not to disturb any of the inhabitants in the rooms they passed. “Kardar seems to have taken an interest in you. Although, if that is because he is actually interested in you or only because the king seems to be, I am not sure.” Esther’s voice was going hard again, her hands tightening around the bundle of sewing materials she held. 

“Most likely the latter. I have only spoken with him once, and I do not think I impressed him very much,” Byleth commented, remembering her first day in court, when Kardar had interrogated her for his own amusement. 

Esther’s eyes went wide as she stopped in her tracks to stare at Byleth. “You talked to him?”

Byleth blinked at her, studying the strange desperation on Esther’s face before she answered. “Briefly. Then the whole issue with the stolen wyvern came up, and he left with the rest of the court.”

For a moment it looked like Esther was on the verge of hyperventilating. Byleth slid a hand to the back of Esther’s elbow and began to guide her, finishing the short trek back to Byleth’s rooms. She shut the door behind them and set the former dancer on a lounge. “Esther, what is wrong?” she prompted, pushing a cup of chilled juice into Esther’s hands. “Please, talk to me.”

Esther swallowed hard, her hands tightening around the cup more to steady them than because she wanted to drink. She shook her head vigorously before looking down, her chin touching her chest. Her soft sniffle was loud in the peace and safely of Byleth’s rooms.

“I am sorry,” Esther finally managed. “I knew he would be here in the palace, but I never thought I would have to interact with him. He seemed so far away.” She took another deep breath, needing the moment to prepare herself. Her eyes were clear when she looked back up. “Kardar is the one who instigated my father’s disgrace.”

Byleth squeezed Esther’s hand, the breaking of a dam as everything rushed forth from Esther. “My family has fought for Kardar’s for generations. But when King Khalid was trying for the throne…” Esther paused, seemingly frustrated at not being able to find the right words. “It, you have to understand, there was push back against his ideas. There are many who do not approve of King Khalid because of his mother’s blood. He has won some of them over, through charm or might, but it took time. And there was not much of that after King Darius died.”

Esther took another breath, patting Byleth’s hand before placing it back in her own lap. She fiddled with her dress for a moment, but changed tasks to being sorting the sewing supplies she had set down next to her. “Kardar’s family backed his older brother’s claim, right up until he was killed and Kardar swore his loyalty to King Khalid to save his position, not to mention his head. In the fall out of clearing his house, my father was used as a scapegoat for some of the crimes committed against King Khalid’s troops. We lost everything besides each other because of it.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, until Esther sighed and picked up her sewing. “It is all in the past now,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

“Is it?” Byleth prompted as gently as she could manage. “You mentioned before that you wanted to ask the king to pardon your father. Do you still want that?”

“I do,” Esther answered, her tone boarding on aggressive, before she sighed once more, finally releasing her anger. “I cannot deny that my father caused quite a bit of trouble for the king, but he was doing his best for the family he was sworn to. He should at least have the chance to regain his honor.”

When Esther looked up at Byleth once more, her face was grim set. “Do not worry about me, Byleth. I learned long ago how to deal with it all. I just became a bit overwhelmed being so near that man’s machinations again.”

Byleth opened her mouth, but Esther continued on, her calm confidence firmly back in place. “You will be late for your kinnor lesson if we do not get you ready. The Dowager Queen would not be pleased, so come on. Up, up, Byleth. There is too much to do today to sit here.”

Byleth allowed Esther to corral her, letting the matter to drop for now. But she would not stop hoping that there was some way to help Esther. 

/

“Ugh! I am going to slap one of those washerwomen!”

“You would get further if you did not snap at them.” 

Byleth exited her dressing room to see Roxanne glaring at Esther, dropping her burden of clean sheets onto Byleth’s bed. Esther, for her part, simply continued to sew calmly. Roxanne threw up her hands when she received no reaction, and began to spread out the sheets. 

“I can take care of it, Roxanne.” 

Roxanne easily allowed Byleth to take over, continuing on her rant about whatever the washerwomen had done to upset her. Byleth was glad Roxanne allowed her to do things herself. She was not used to having people she considered friends cater to her every need. In truth, she was not used to having friends in the first place. 

“Roxanne!” Esther ticked her tongue, so similar to the way Matti did when she was annoyed. 

“Oh enough!” Roxanne waved her off, already knowing what Esther’s protest was. “You know she will insist, and then if I try to insist that ‘no, my lady, please allow me’ it will just take forever. Let her do what she is comfortable with.”

Byleth shook her head as the two started to bicker. “I am done anyways,” she said, cutting off the argument. She was in no mood to hear it tonight.

Esther gave a pointed look to where the half spread out sheets were laying on the clearly unmade bed., but seemed to read the exhaustion that clung to Byleth. “All right. Good night, Byleth.”

“Good night,” Roxanne echoed.

Byleth watched them both head through the hidden door to their own chambers before she moved back to the sheets. She finished unfurling them, a single white flower falling from where someone had tucked it inside the folds. 

The flower was strange, layers of white petals forming the bloom into a perfect square. It was easily the size of her palm. A red burst center made the flower look as if someone had dropped a splash of blood onto it. 

“Roxanne,” Byleth called, loud enough she knew she would be heard through the thin door.

She heard the padding of feet before the door was thrown open, Esther’s long locks half down around her shoulders. “Byleth? What is wrong?” she asked in a rush, her eyes wide. Byleth had never called for her or Roxanne before. 

“Do you know what this flower is?” Byleth asked, pointing Esther’s gaze to the flower that laid among the sheets. “I wanted Roxanne to see if she knew how it got there.”

“She was preparing for a bath,” Esther answered. She stared at the flower and shook her head. “I have never seen it before.”

A grumbling Roxanne, her face strained with worry that did not reflect her words, holding a robe around herself, swept into the room. “Roxie, where did this flower come from?” Esther asked her.

Roxanne’s brow furrowed for a moment as she stared, shaking her head a moment later. “Where did it come from?”

“It was folded within the sheets.”

Byleth watched the color drain from Roxanne’s face. Folded with, not sitting on top, as if someone meant to conceal it. Roxanne marched forward, grabbing Byleth’s wrists, uncaring of her robe as it opened without her hold on it. “Wash your hands, right now.”

“Roxie?” Esther questioned, her voice trembling as she padded behind the two. Byleth went easily with Roxanne, already having the same thought.

“We do not know if it was meant to poison the sheets,” Roxanne explained to her. 

Horrific understanding dawned on Esther’s face, and she turned on her heel, fleeing from the room. 

Roxanne seemed unconcerned with her fellow handmaiden, focusing her attention on Byleth. “You should bathe, just to be safe.”

“You as well,” Byleth pointed out. “You carried them here.”

“I will take care of myself,” Roxanne insisted. “Just as soon as we see to you.”

Byleth was stripped before she could protest, and dunked under the warm hot spring waters that continuously pumped into her bathing room. She shut her eyes, allowing the water to flow over her.

/

“It is poisonous,” Tiana’s hard voice said in greeting as Byleth, bundled up in a robe, reentered her bedroom. “But only when ingested.”

“And yet your face is grim,” Byleth pointed out.

Tiana’s face was indeed serious, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Byleth had not noticed it before, but the lines around the former queen’s eyes made her seem tired. “These flowers come from one source. Fairuza’s family tends to them. They breed them and have kept their care a secret unto themselves, so much so that the flowers have become synonymous with their house.”

“Fairuza?” Byleth repeated. “Kardar’s mother?”

“Yes,” Tiana almost growled. “That one.” The Dowager Queen forced herself to take a few deep breaths before she turned back to Byleth. “Get some rest for now. It seems over breakfast we will need to discuss intrigue instead of your lessons. You are being dragged into this faster than I wished you to be.

“For now,” she continued without breaking stride, turning to Esther, “burn the sheets just to be safe.”

Byleth made a move to help Esther, but Tiana caught her arm and pulled her out of the room, into the cool night air of Byleth’s open study. “Has Kardar said anything to you since you met him at court?”

Byleth shook her head. “No. I have not even seen him since.”

Tiana frowned, fingers slowly loosening from Byleth’s arm. “That makes no sense for him to move now then. There is no advantage to it.” She shook her head and sighed, suddenly seeming tired once more. Byleth did not like the haggard look on the usually strong woman. “We will need to do a better job keeping an eye on you, as I suspect he is doing right now. Be careful, Byleth. My son, at the very least, enjoys your company, and he deserves to have a bit of happiness in his life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a few chapters I will introduce the last new oc character, and I will be putting the appendix in the notes then. Once I am done with the story, I'll switch it over to the last chapter. That way it is easy for you guys to look up anyone you're not sure of who they are.


	12. Garland Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Mads for being such an amazing friend and helping me through this story.

“You are getting better at that.”

Byleth slowly let her fingers fall from the strings of the kinnor and looked up to see Xio standing beneath the arched shrubs marking the entryway into the small alcove in which Byleth had taken refuge. She had not seen him since they had met in Galli’s lab, where he had worn that same smile as he teased Khalid. “Are you to be my shadow today then?”

Xio’s smile widened and the spymaster shook his head. “No, someone even better.”

He stepped aside to reveal a dark skinned woman with the same silver hair and cheekbones as himself. Their faces were mirror images of each other, yet the woman was slim and willowy to Xio’s lanky muscles. She stepped forward, her thin white dress sweeping around her bare feet, its hem stained green and brown with the earth.

“Lady Byleth, meet my sister, Peni,” Xio introduced. His face somehow splitting into an even wider smile.

“Hello,” Peni greeted, nodding her head. She did not smile like her brother, but her features seemed permanently fixed in kind understanding. Before her swung a basket filled to the brim with gardening tools and clippings.

“Peni is part of Khalid’s harem as well, but her talent with all things green and growing made Tiana place her in charge of the private gardens here.” There was so much pride in Xio’s voice. He was all tricks and mischief the last time Byleth had seen him, but being around his sister seemed to change him. Xio was practically bouncing on his heels.

“You have made your introductions,” Peni’s voice was steady, but there was a hoarse whisper in it, as if she were forcing the words past a barrier. “Now away with you, oh spirit of the air.”

Xio laughed and fell into a deep bow to his sister. Peni shook her head, the beginnings of a smile on her lips as she stepped around him. Peni reached into her basket, removing a small pair of trimmers and began to look over the flowers near where Byleth sat.

“I take it you are not excited about having a babysitter then,” she said, not taking her eyes off the leaf she held between her fingers.

Byleth frowned, plucking absentmindedly at the strings of the kinnor. “I did not come here to hide away. The Dowager Queen has taken to secreting me behind these walls, as if Kardar himself would sneak in and steal me in the night.”

“That has happened before,” Peni pointed out, but continued before Byleth could further inquire. “There is a certain peace in hiding away.” She paused, turning to look at Byleth. She finally caught the reason for why Peni’s voice was so hoarse. A long dark scar crossed against the skin of her neck, as if someone had once tried to cut it open. Peni raised her hand when she noticed Byleth’s gaze, rubbing at it as she continued. “Xio and I fled from Duscur after Faerghus put our people to the sword in retaliation for the death of their king. We found refuge in Khalid’s household, and he promised us both a place in his harem as further protection when he took the throne.” Peni’s hand dropped back to her trimmers and she began to gather clippings. “But Xio’s talents laid elsewhere, and he was not happy to be something he was not. Khalid allowed him his freedom, and in return Xio promised his servitude.”

Byleth was not sure what to make of that last statement as Peni looked over her shoulder, smiling softly at Byleth’s confused blinking eyes. “You are like Xio far more than you are like me. This confinement does not sit easy upon you, does it?”

Byleth shook her head, the kinnor in her hands all but forgotten. There was something almost hypnotic in the way Peni spoke.

Peni nodded, more to herself than to Byleth before she could answer. “Khalid cares for you,” Peni said, as if she were commenting on how the sun hung in the sky. “He has built himself a little group that cares for him, and yet he is still the embodiment of distrust. With good reason-” Peni cut herself off with a sigh. “It is obvious to those of us who know him that he cares for you, and Tiana cares for him. She wants her son to succeed, but beyond that, she wants him to be happy, and happiness is something that has been fleeting to hold onto since King Darius died.”

They fell into silence then. Even Sothis, listening intently from her throne, seemed to have little to say on the matter.

“What type of flowers are these?” Byleth eventually settled on. She did not mind the silence, but something seemed to have settled between them, one of those emotions Byleth could not yet name. Changing the subject seemed an easy solution. “I have never seen them in bloom.”

Peni’s gentle smile became a smirk, almost terrifying in the way that kindness still remained in her features. “Night blooming jasmine, Khalid’s favorite. You really should see them under the light of the moon sometime.”

Peni brushed at her skirts, shaking loose the clippings that had stuck into the folds of her skirts. “If you would like to learn more, I am happy to instruct.” She held out her arm to Byleth, who slid her own through Peni’s, happy to spend the rest of the day learning the names of a dozen different flowers and their properties.

/

“Byleth.”

Her name was said in a gasping breath. When she turned to look at Khalid, illuminated in the midnight moonlight, his mouth was hanging open, slack jawed and shocked. Byleth blinked at him, her concern growing as Khalid continued to stare. Her hand dropped from the blooming jasmine as she gave the king her full attention.

“Khalid?”

The sound of his name awakened Khalid from his reverie, and he picked his jaw off the ground. In the back of her mind, Sothis was laughing into her propped up fist. “You keep turning up in places late at night when you shouldn’t be.”

It was said lightly, that soft tease Khalid let show when away from his throne, but Byleth’s lips turned down in a frown. The smirk immediately fell from Khalid’s own. “I am in the safety of the harem, the only place I seem to be permitted anymore.”

“Oh.” Khalid’s face transformed in his understanding, and Byleth turned back to the recently flowered buds. Peni was right. The jasmine was lovely in the moonlight.

“My mother’s restrictions are chafing at you then.” He stepped beside her, running his fingers over the flower only to have one come loose and break off in his grip. 

“You asked me to stay to help you,” Byleth pointed out, skipping a breath as Khalid took his place at her side to gaze at the flowers with her. “I have spent the majority of my time here hiding away, and the second something does happen I am rendered useless.”

“Byleth,” Khalid whispered, her chest doing that squeezing hurt thing that was so common when he was around.

“My time here is halfway through,” Byleth continued, feeling almost as if she were rambling. Usually her words were kept close and said when necessary, but Khalid did something to her that made them feel like spilling out. “I have done little in the way of actually assisting you, which was the entire reason you asked me to stay.”

_ “Oh child,” _ Sothis breathed out, and Byleth immediately knew she had misspoken. She did not know what line she had crossed, but she had stepped over it all the same.

She looked at Khalid out of the corner of her eye, feeling sick at the way his face had hardened. The king spun the blossom he had plucked in his grip, fingers tight enough around it that he was crushing the stem. 

“That’s right,” Khalid said, his voice that of the king and not the gentle teasing tones he usually shared with her. “Your time here is limited. I should not have wasted so much of it.” He spun the flower too hard, crushing it as he attempted to catch it when it slid from his hand. “I do have a job I could use your help with. Let’s see if you’re up for it.”

/

The wyvern breeder was still staring at her with shock, although he seemed to have recovered from his unbridled horror upon her first arriving on his doorstep. “M-my lady,” he stammered, hands tangling in his clothes and twisting them just as he had when he stood before Khalid’s court. 

He trailed behind her as Byleth made her way to the newly built stable, its construction all pristine and new against the lived-in feel of the buildings around it. “W-we removed everything from the fire months ago. The king’s agents were here for some time. Th-they said it was fine to start rebuilding.”

Byleth began to walk around the building, watching the man from her periphery. He was not a good actor. She had seen this before, watched as her father slowly paced around the scene of a supposed robbery. He had known the details and yet his critical eye swept over the staged crime, his pace slow and measured. The merchant who looked on wrung his hands until he cried out, throwing himself at Jeralt’s feet and begging for mercy, revealing everything that Jeralt already knew but needed the confession of in order to move forward with their job.

Byleth had not come suspecting the breeder, not until she recognized that expression on his face. And so Byleth followed in the footsteps of her father, her mercenary mantle back in comfortable place, and mimicked his actions from that day so long ago.

The breeder followed her, wringing his shirt between his hands. The motion was becoming more jarring with every step. Did she think she would find anything of use in the new buildings? Absolutely not, but she was not about to throw away a lead when handed to her. 

Byleth turned the corner around the building, bending down to stare at the dirt. The frown on her face deepened, and the man whimpered. Byleth took another slow tentative step forward, and the man dropped to his knees. 

“My lady, please! I beg for your mercy!” he sobbed, his hands clasped together in front of him as if in prayer. “They said they would hurt my family if I did not help them! I-I-I took their money yes, but they forced it on me! To make me look like I was part of their plot! Please, I wanted none of this!” 

Byleth stared at him, his eyes flickering to where her hands rested easily against the pommel of her sword.“Where did they go?”

The man’s whimpering ceased at her words, staring up at her questioningly. Byleth remained still, obviously not going to repeat her question. “I-I do not-eep!” When Byleth’s frown deepened into a truly displeased expression, the breeder cut himself off. “E-east!” he stammered out. “They went east!”

Byleth left him there in the dirt, turning on her heel and walking through the door of the newly constructed barn. 

The wyvern growled at her the moment the door was opened, even before Byleth’s eyes had adjusted and she could make out the coiled form. She took another step forward, meeting the rising growl without flinching. The sow lunged forward on Byleth’s next step. She pivoted on her heels, almost dancing as she slipped to the side to avoid the wyvern’s snapping teeth attempting to close around her. The wyvern came back around, like a strike of lightning, meeting the flat of Byleth’s blade, pulled from its sheath just as quick. The wyvern snorted, her hot breath condensing on the metal that made her pause.

Byleth watched the wyvern slowly pull her head back. Yellow eyes trained on Byleth, waiting for any opening that could bring a next strike. 

“I know how you feel.” Byleth was not sure where the words came from, but she found herself envious of the wyvern, able to express her anger so easily, unlike Byleth who had not even known for months what the name was for the strange feeling. The hurt was still there, but the anger had cooled with Kronya’s death, leaving Byleth suddenly feeling as if she had no outlet. “I lost someone important to me too.”

They wyvern roared, lunging at Byleth again, but was once more easily blocked. “Your dear one can be returned, if you help me,” Byleth continued, pushing back against the sow until she was forced a step back into the stable. “Direct your anger at those who did this to you, and help me track them down.”

One last charge, the wyvern springing forward with all the power possessed in those muscled hind legs. Byleth rolled beneath the sow, slamming both of her feet up into the wyvern’s stomach. Her growl turned into a squawk of surprise as she went flying, landing on her side.

Both combatants rose to their feet, the wyvern’s claws scrambling against the dirt flooring. She stared at Byleth for a moment before she attempted to growl again, cut off when Byleth’s sword booped her nose, going cross eyed as she tried to keep her gaze on the weapon. 

“Are we done with that now?” Byleth asked, the chill of the Ashen Demon making its way into her tone. 

The wyvern snorted loudly and shook her wings out before settling, waiting for Byleth to mount. 

And it was then Byleth realized the flaw in her plan. How did one saddle a wyvern?

The sow snorted again, but this time Byleth could swear the creature was laughing at her. As she looked for gear, Byleth could not help thinking how perfectly the wyvern fit into Almyran culture. First, one had to prove their strengths to the creature if they wanted to get anywhere. 

From her throne Sothis hummed, amusement coursing through Byleth’s mind.  _ “It does not sound to me as if you are truly as annoyed as you pretend to be.” _

/

Figuring out the reins was not so difficult. Leading the impatient wyvern through the market to gather supplies had certainly been an experience. She had sent a messenger back to the palace to let them know where she was headed, and then they were off.

The wyvern chomped at the bit, wanting to eat through the miles as fast as possible, but Byleth held her back, making her pace herself for what would most certainly be a long journey. They found a town near the end of that first day. Byleth landed and asked a few questions, but this close to the capital there were too many travelers for two to be picked out from the rest. Not unless Byleth wanted to dedicate more time here, which she did not. So she continued east. 

It was not until the fourth village, barely a third of the size of the first, that Byleth found someone who remembered the two men and their strange package. Granted, they mostly stood out because there was angry chirping coming from said package. 

She reached the fifth village in the morning of the third day of their flight. It was there Byleth finally had luck. Multiple people remembered the two men as they had stopped to resupply, never letting the package from their sight. There was no reported chirping this time, but the description matched perfectly.

And they had only left two days ago.

Byleth quickly restocked her own supplies and headed back to the edge of town where she had left the wyvern to rest. She paused at the sight that awaited her. Standing a short distance off from her wyvern was a small group that had just landed themselves, the large white bull stretching out his wings as his rider slid from his back.

Khalid was grim faced as he approached, but there was a glint in his eyes, something that Byleth could not name.

_ “It resembles pride to me,” _ Sothis offered her own input.

Pride. Byleth filed away the look, yet another new emotion she would need to sort through.

“I take it the interrogation went well then,” Khalid greeted her with.

“I would not call it much of an interrogation,” Byleth answered.

“Oh, good,” Xio interjected, sauntering up to Khalid’s side. “I would hate to think I had lost my touch.”

Byleth took in the sour look on Xio’s face and shook her head. “I had the element of surprise, Xio. He was not expecting anyone to come back.”

That seemed to mollify Xio, who uncrossed his arms, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Well, I assume if you are this far out you still have their scent.”

Byleth nodded. “They left two days ago. They’re headed toward the edge of the plains.”

“They can easily swing north from Odessa and make for the seas,” Hilda pointed out, joining their group. Marianne was at her side, her hair pulled back in a braid. Byleth felt relief at her presence. She was not sure what she was planning on doing if the hatchling was injured when they rescued it.

“That is a rather roundabout way to go about that,” Brida pointed out, Khalid’s constant shadow even now.

“More likely they are headed south,” Xio supplied. His brown eyes stared forward as he mentally mapped out Almyra. The southeast has given the most resistant to your reign. These thieves could easily find refuge there.”

_ “Is that not where the brother who challenged his throne held lands?” _ Sothis asked. Byleth could feel the maybe-goddess’ presence over her shoulder, watching the proceedings with an intense interest.

_ “I thought you found my lessons boring,” _ Byleth replied.

Sothis frowned at her, crossing her arms with a frown.  _ “Really now! Here I was trying to be helpful.” _

Byleth kept her face straight, but she knew Sothis had felt her amusement by the flick of irritation that traveled between their bond.  _ “You’re right,” _ she answered the original question.  _ “And Kardar’s lands are right next to them.” _

“Either way, Odessa is a major trade hub,” Khalid interjected after having listened to all of them. “If they reach it before we find them, there is a good chance we will lose their trail.”

“Then let’s get going,” Nader practically shouted, the last of their small group. He turned immediately on his heel to make his way back to his wyvern.

Khalid inclined his head to Byleth. “Lead the way, Lady Byleth.”

He smirked at her as Byleth frowned at the comment. His eyes lingered on her face, seemingly focused on her nose. Not that Byleth had any idea why he would do so. “You got us this far. Let’s see if you can finish the job.”

A challenge to her skills as a mercenary. Byleth found her chest squeezing at his words. She did not want to disappoint Khalid.

Her wyvern butted her head against Byleth’s shoulder, a low rumble indicating her desire to continue. Byleth hopped back in the saddle and they were off. She gave the sow her head this time. The wind whipped in Byleth’s face, tangling with her hair. The wyvern hrumped, sounding eerily similar to a laugh. But then it was all focus to the mission. They were close, that thrum of adrenaline rushing through her, preparing her for the fight to come.

Byleth almost missed the hastily covered camp. The sand had been kicked over to cover their tracks, but the winds had yet to come in and make the sweeping movements look natural. Bits of cloth and food supplies laid scattered about, just peeking up through their quick attempt to hide their presence. 

They had left in a hurry not long ago, and Byleth could think of only one thing that would force them to flee; their pursuit had been spotted. She pulled on the wyvern’s reins, the sow growling beneath her as she was forced to slow. Byleth brought her into a circle, taking careful note of the camp. They would not have time to cover their trail completely. One more circle, wider this time, and Byleth caught the same sweeping attempts to cover their trail.

They had headed south, most likely hoping the group would fly over and continue easy if they happened to be after them. Too bad for the thieves that Byleth was not about to fail this job. Byleth banked the wyvern, the sow reacting more instinctively to Byleth's unconscious body language than her inexperienced command through the reins. As soon as they turned, the wyvern’s powerful wings cut through the air as she soared at her full speed. Byleth could hear the rest of her group behind her turn to follow.

If felt right, like when Jeralt had allowed her to lead the group for the first time. That mission had earned her that cursed name of Ashen Demon.

Only a minute later the distinct forms of two people running at full tilt came into view. Her wyvern roared, and the thieves both looked back over their shoulders. Flying in lower Byleth could see the terror on their faces, could make out the sounds of curses when they turned their faces forward again and began running for all they were worth, dragging their precious package along with them. She could hear the shouted curses of some not so pleasant names for Khalid, and guessed they had spotted the distinct white of the king’s own wyvern. 

The wyvern flew lower still, her feet just barely above the short grasses. Byleth jumped from the saddle and drew her sword in one fluid motion. A few quick steps and Byleth was leaping on the back of one of the thieves. He cried out as he was tackled to the ground, the package spilling from his grasp. A loud squawk came from it, met by the sow’s roar. The thief was scrambling for his weapon, but Byleth had him pinned.

But she was forced to roll to the side as the second thief swung at her. She brought her blade up, blocking his strike. The first thief gracelessly gained his footing, unsheathing his own sword. Byleth allowed the blade she was locked with to come closer, before pushing back and using the thief’s weight against him. He shouted as he swung a heavy blow at Byleth, the other thief sweeping to the side to flank her.

He did not get far. The wyvern roared and snapped at him, pouncing on top of him and knocking him down once more. Byleth used the distraction to push back against the thief she was engaged with. He blade swung out, scoring a hit along the back of his knee. The thief hissed in pain, but it did not slow the next blow that had Byleth dancing backwards to avoid.

The other thief screamed out in pain as the wyvern’s jaw snapped around his arm. He punched at her, but the wyvern held on, her growl loud even over the sound of exchanged blows. She shook his arm and the thief screamed again, more desperate this time as his skin tore beneath fangs. 

Byleth struck another blow, landing a wide slash across her opponent’s chest, before bringing her sword back around. The thief looked genuinely surprised when Byleth’s sword managed to block the dagger he had tried to sneakily stab into her guts. His growl turned to a howl of pain when an arrow suddenly sprang forth from his arm. The golden fletched feathers left little doubt who had fired it. 

She shoved him back, the thief not having time to scream before Byleth’s sword was biting through muscles and organs, driven down and down below the base of his throat, angled so the lung was just as quickly punctured.

A quick glance as she pushed the dying man off her sword, blood spilling forth from his throat as every breath became a labor, made Byleth mentally curse herself when she saw the wyvern chomping on the other thief’s head. She kept her face neutral as she watched, regretting that they had not left one alive to question.

The package was still chirping and shaking when Byleth knelt down beside it. Deciding she was done with her new playmate, the wyvern bounded over to Byleth, sticking her nose under Byleth’s elbow as she attempted to get closer to the package. “I can’t open it if you don’t let me move my arm.” The wyvern stopped pushing but did not remove her head, the low rumble emanating from her traveling through Byleth as well.

Byleth slammed the hilt of her sword into the small lock on the package. It shattered beneath the force and Byleth popped it off, opening the top. A disgruntled tiny wyvern head poked out, his scales as white as the breeder had said they were, and Byleth was shoved out of the way as the sow tried to reach her child.

The hatchling chirped loudly, spinning circles in between his mother’s claws, curling up against her side. He purred happily, rubbing his head against his mother until her sandpapery tongue licked a long strip down his back. The hatchling protested at his unexpected bath, but his mother was having none of it, and so he grumpily settled between her forelegs.

Byleth moved to stand up, but the wyvern’s tail tripped her, bringing her back down against the sow’s side. She gave a noise of satisfaction when Byleth also relented to her will and curled up at her side.

“You could have left one for us,” Nader quipped, grumbling as his wyvern landed.

“You could have left one for  _ me _ ,” Xio mumbled under his breath.

Khalid ignored them, slowly walking forward until the sow, watching him from the corner of her eye, began to growl. He squatted, resting his weight upon the balls of his feet, making sure the wyvern had a clear view of his actions. “You are going to make me think you’re one of those heroines from the storybooks with the managerine you seem to be collecting,” he teased.

His smile was brilliant, and the sight of it produced a thud within Byleth’s chest. For a moment the world shuddered, the aftermath of stillness more upsetting than the moment of action.

Caught off guard, Byleth reached up, grasping at the spot over her heart. Khalid immediately frowned, and Byleth’s chest ached all over again. She wanted him to keep smiling.

“Are you hurt?” Byleth shook her head, but Khalid was already calling for Marianne.

It took quite some convincing for the wyvern to allow anyone near Byleth, let alone  _ allowing _ Marianne to check over the hatchling. 

“I’m fine, really,” Byleth assured Khalid after he continued to stare concern into her even after Marianne’s declaration that she was fine. 

Khalid’s hand flexed as he raised it, only to pull it back down to his side. His fingers stretched out against his thigh, so flat it almost looked painful, as if he were attempting to keep them still.

_ “Now that is interesting.” _ Byleth could feel Sothis leaning over her shoulder, watching Khalid with dark green eyes. It was one too many strange things all at once.

Khalid sighed heavily, rocking back until he gently handed on his backside. His gaze went between Byleth and the white hatchling, the smile creeping back onto his face. “That was faster than I was expecting. Very nicely done, Lady Byleth.”

Byleth frowned at him again, Khalid’s eyes dropping to her nose once more. She doubted she was ever going to get him to stop calling her that. “So what now?”

“Now?” Khalid sighed as his head tilted back, staring up at the stars just starting to appear in the sky. “Now we get some rest. Tomorrow it’s back home, and then there is so much more work to do. Might as well relax while we can.”

Byleth glanced at the wyvern tail still resting around her waist. “Well, in that case, would you mind grabbing me some food? I don’t think I’m going anywhere anytime soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on Dec. 6th.


	13. Blue Sea Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to Mads for checking this over for me!   
> Please excuse any mistakes, they are wholly my own. I haven't been feeling 100% lately, so the editing may have slipped a bit in this last chapter.

The heavy scent of perfume slammed into Byleth as soon as she opened the bathing room door, stopping her in her tracks as she unconsciously took a step backwards. Beside her, Mǎhi, who had been trotting along on her heels, came to a sudden stop. His eyes were wide, sniffing at the air a few times before he turned around and abandoned Byleth, his fluffy tail held high in the air.

“Little traitor,” Byleth mumbled, watching him go. Not that she could blame him. She would run too if she had the chance.

Roxanne rolled her eyes and grabbed Byleth’s wrist, pulling her fully into the room. “If you think it so terrible then working with us will be the fastest way out.”

“Not without smelling like the most fragrant bouquet this side of the Throat,” Byleth replied in monotone as her robe was stripped from her and she was dunked into the scented water. Jasmine burned into her nostrils, coating her in Khalid’s favorite scent.

A maid lent by Tiana began to scrub Byleth’s hair, her skilled fingers massaging Byleth’s scalp and relaxing her despite the hurried pace of those around her. As soon as her hair was done, her body was scrubbed clean, Byleth trying her best not to be annoyed with the women just doing their jobs, but she had long ago learnt to bathe herself and found the whole process rather unnecessary. With practiced ease and direction from Tiana’s maid, Byleth was pulled from the bath and lavender oil was massaged into her thighs, high up between her legs, before Esther was allowed to present her gown.

In the time it took her to draw a breath, Byleth was dressed. The thin white gown covered her from ankle to neck, splitting at the shoulders to reveal her arms, the fabric twisting around before once more meeting over her wrists. The material flowered with her as she moved, hugging her body in caresses and whispers.

Tiana’s maid once more picked up strands of her hair. Byleth sat still as she wove her hair together, occasionally adding a flower into the braid. The maid finished it off by pinning Byleth’s hair up at the nape of her neck with a comb decorated with a cluster of golden jasmine flowers.

By the time they were done, Byleth barely recognized the woman staring at her in the mirror.

“There,” Esther said in her gentle voice, finishing her final circle around Byleth. “You are ready for him.” Esther kept her calm composure for only a moment before she clapped her hands before her and bounced on the toes of her feet, squealing excitedly. “I cannot believe the King wants to see you on the night of his birthday! This is so special!”

Byleth did not feel ready; was not at all sure why her visiting Khalid on his birthday and not another night would be any more special. She felt false, so unlike herself that she was not sure how Khalid would even recognize her, let alone join her in that playful banter that made his eyes spark.

They swept Byleth up in another whirlwind, escorting her from her room and along the halls toward the king’s chambers. Music and laughter from the still ongoing celebrations echoed all the way through the hallways. She had been there in the bright light and dancing not long ago, before Tiana had appeared at her side with her maid and informed Byleth that she would be spending her night with Khalid.

And then there she was, standing before his doors. She had not been here since the day Hilda had dragged her along to help pick out fabrics for his new year’s outfit, but the large doors were the same, as well as the guards who opened them. She was ushered inside, the doors shutting behind her with a resounding thud. And then she was alone. None of the guards or her maids had followed.

Byleth spun slowly, taking in her surroundings, unsure of where to go. The doors, each sporting the face of a different creature, stared back at her. She only knew where the wyvern door led; into Khalid’s room, but she was not sure if she was supposed to go in yet without permission. 

As she was debating, the door with the wyvern face opened and Khalid stepped through. “Byleth?” He smiled when he saw her, that sharp one Byleth did not enjoy nearly as much as the one that reached his eyes. Khalid waved his hand, motioning her to him. “Come in.”

Byleth walked to him, the gown making it feel as if she were gliding. Khalid’s eyes flicked down, the hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks before returning to her face. He held the door for her as she walked through into his bedroom, her chest squeezing tightly. What was this feeling then? Nerves? Sothis would know, but Sothis had said she wished to have no part in the events of the night and so was at least pretending to sleep. Byleth’s fingers itched for her sword, or perhaps even her harp, wanting the familiarity to stabilize her.

She stopped for a moment in the middle of the room, Khalid walking by her back toward the small desk that faced out toward his balcony where the light was best in the mornings. A fat candle burned there now. “Make yourself comfortable, Lady Byleth.”

His eyes dropped immediately to her nose, a brief flash of that pleased smile Byleth liked showing. That was worth her moment of irritation to see.

“I’m just finishing up a few letters,” Khalid told her as he sat at his desk. “Give me just a moment.”

Byleth took a deep breath, stealing herself against that strange feeling. She stepped forward, kneeling on Khalid’s bed, her fingers sinking into the soft sheets before carefully laying down on her back. 

She stared up at the mural above her, a mosaic of Akhter and her white wyvern. She was flanked by her successors, the kings and queens who had come after and continued her vision. Near the bottom center of the art piece was a man with Khalid’s wild hair, the colored stones lighter and new against the rest. Byleth had seen a few pictures of Darius, Khalid’s later father, but there was something almost awe inspiring about seeing him here, surrounded by the images of those he had to live up to. Would Khalid someday be up there as well, watching over future rulers as they slept?

The bed dipped under Khalid’s weight as he lay down, the bed large enough and the space between them too wide that it could not be said he was lying beside her. “The eyes of my predecessors,” he breathed softly. “Staring down at me every night to remind me of my responsibilities.”

Byleth’s head slowly tilted to the side, taking in the sight of Khalid gazing upwards. There was a crease of worry on his forehead she wished she could brush away. 

But Khalid turned his head toward her and whatever spell had settled over them was broken. “What are you doing?”

Byleth blinked at him, not having expected the question. “I thought this position would make things easy for you. Would you like me somehow else?”

That blush came back to Khalid’s cheeks and he shoved himself up, turning his face away from her. “Ah, I suppose that’s my cue to let you in on one of my secrets.”

“Really?” Byleth asked, the word slipping out in her surprise, although the tone of her voice remained mostly steady, wavering only ever so slightly. “You usually prefer to gain other’s secrets than let go of one of your own.”

“True,” Khalid laughed, the usually pleasant tone taking on a bitter edge. “But sometimes a little bit of showing is required to get the things you want.”

Khalid slid off the bed, looking back over his shoulder at her. Byleth propped herself up on her elbows, Khalid answering the move with a hastily sucked in breath. He stared at her, mouth slightly agape. She shifted her legs, making to move off the bed, but it seemed to bring Khalid back from wherever his mind had wandered. 

“Byleth,” Khalid began, turning to face her fully, whatever playfulness that had been present in his voice gone. “In your time here, you have acted in my best interests. I invited you here tonight because I hope you will continue to offer me your aid.”

“Of course,” Byleth answered without hesitation. She pushed herself up fully, tucking her legs to the side. 

Khalid breathed in again, nodding his head. “Right. Well, everyone expects when I invite one of my concubines to my rooms that we...spend the night together.” He hesitated for a moment, but Byleth knew she had heard him speak of sex before, so she was not sure what caused him to carefully choose his words there. “But we don’t.”

Byleth stared at him, not understanding. “You don’t?”

“No.”

“Then what do you do?”

Khalid smirked for a brief moment, answering, “We braid each other’s hair,” before it faded away once more. It felt more as if the King stood before her than the man she had grown used to. “We talk, without any unwanted ears or eyes to pry upon us.”

And that was all Byleth needed for things to click into place. Even when they were alone, there was always a servant waiting nearby in case they required anything. There was always the chance of some courtier attempting to be in the right place at the right time, desperate for whatever scraps of information that would allow them to curry favor or sell it to the highest bidder. But here, in the confines of Khalid’s room, when everyone expected the king to be enjoying himself, the only ears were hers. It made sense to her now why Khalid was so selective in who he invited back to his rooms, why only people like Hilda or Xio were frequent visitors. 

“We have talked about sensitive matters before,” Byleth began slowly. “What necessitated the need for further secrecy tonight?”

Khalid’s face became grim, the face of the king on the throne. “Kardar danced with you.” Khalid spun on his heel, going back to his desk chair and spinning it to face her before taking a seat. “As grateful as I am to Esther and Roxanne for taking care of you, they are not my people. Esther has connections to Kardar’s house. Roxanne has made it clear she is looking for a well off partner. And we still do not know who placed the flower in your sheets.”

The way he said that last line made Byleth think there was something Khalid was still covering up. “You think one of them had something to do with it?”

Khalid shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, we have yet to rule anyone out.” It was a reminder that even though he was giving a secret, he had at least a dozen more hidden behind that charming smile.

Byleth nodded, replying to him in her usual neutral tone. “I am not sure what I can tell you. Kardar approached me and asked to dance with ‘Matti’s little protege.’ Hilda said we were allowed to take dance partners tonight, so there was not much reason to say no.”

“Unless you didn’t want to,” Khalid pointed out.

There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips that had Byleth able to pinpoint exactly what he was thinking. “As amusing as you might find it for me to humiliate your brother, how about I don’t be the excuse he needs to hold over your head?”

Khalid sighted melodramatically. “Fine. I will concede you have a point.” He waved his hand, motioning for Byleth to continue.

Byleth thought back to her time with Kardar, trying to remember the details of their conversation. “It was a bit difficult to talk over the music, so he asked in bits and pieces between songs about our relationship, how you treat me. I think he was trying to figure out if I am happy here.” She paused again, thinking back to the way Kardar had rushed through the breathless steps with her, keeping up with the other dancers as the fast paced music swelled around them. “He spoke of himself a bit, but in that way in which he was not really saying anything at all. He...I am not the best at reading people, so I am not sure how exactly to phrase this.”

“It’s all right, Byleth. Take your time with it,” Khalid prompted gently. 

“There is something about him that makes him seem rather pleased with himself,” Byleth finally answered, picking the words out carefully. “He wants to know about me, and even though I did not say much in my answers, the fact I was saying anything seemed to please him.”

“Because people saw you talking,” Khalid said with a sigh. “I suspect he is trying to get close to you, see if he can turn you against me.” There was that grim look again, but Byleth doubted her own looked any more pleased.

“Why would he choose me?”

“Because you are still new here, and you have the interest of the court,” Khalid answered matter of factly. “If Kardar can take my throne, then having you at his side, it will be like twisting the knife. It will be all that people remember of my reign.”

A cold fire bloomed in Byleth’s chest. She had known Kardar was up to something, but that it was much more dire than she expected caught her off guard. “If he is so brazen, then why can’t you bring charges against him?”

“Because his intent may be audacious, but his actions so far have not been. We see it because we are at the center of whatever he is planning, but the court simply sees a man who danced with the woman who continuously has their tongues wagging.” Khalid sighed again, this one more tired than the last. “Kardar hasn’t done anything I can arrest him for, nothing I have solid proof of yet. It is silent for now, but there has been movement around Kardar. I think he is testing his support before he makes his move. Xio suspects that Kardar is the one who hired those thieves to steal the hatchling, which just goes further into the theory he is after the crown.”

“If that’s the case, no wonder Selene doesn’t like him,” Byleth said flatly.

There was a beat as Khalid blinked at her in surprise. “Your wyvern? When did she see him?”

“A few days ago,” Byleth answered. “He was coming out to ride at the end of my lesson with Nader. She snapped at him the moment he opened his mouth to try and greet me.”

Khalid threw his head back and laughed. “That wyvern is rather protective of you.” His smile was bright, so very bright, gracing Byleth with sunlight even long after the moon had risen in the sky. “How are those going? Your lessons.”

“It is...difficult,” Byleth admitted. “Selene and I worked together when we were chasing her hatchling, but now that there is no urgency she has settled into her stubbornness. She has a much different temperament than a horse.”

“They do. My Shamil was given to me when I was a child, so we’ve grown up together. But Bachus, the wyvern I trained with, was bull headed as anything. He shook me off immediately. I don’t think we even got off the ground for a full month.”

Byleth pictured a tiny Khalid trying to urge an indifferent bull wyvern into the sky. Her laugh was soft and breathy, leaving that strange feeling in her chest light and pleasant. 

And Khalid stared at her, gaze full of wonderment and so many emotions Byleth could not name. She wanted to run from it. She wanted to pull him close and not let go. She wanted simply to sit at his side, to gaze up at the stars in peace with all the rest of the world fading away. Sothis was very much awake now, holding her breath, but Byleth’s thoughts were too filled with those emerald eyes to pay attention.

And then Khalid breathed, deep and shuddering as he forced the air into his lungs. “Would you like some tips?” he asked. He hastily added when he was met with a tilt of Byleth’s head, “On wyvern riding.”

“Yes,” she answered, sinking back into the sheets to listen. “I would appreciate that.”

/

After she arrived back in her room.

After Esther and Roxanne welcomed her back and asked if she was all right.

After Sothis had poked and prodded until she had grown bored of Byleth’s ignorance when it came to Khalid, curling up on her throne and actually falling asleep.

After hours of laying awake, tossing and turning.

After it all, Byleth flopped onto her back, frustrated that her thoughts were filled with  _ him _ and would not let her sleep. She had no idea how to answer Sothis’s questions about her feelings for Khalid, did not know names for half the sensations he made spring to life within her. She thought of his smile, of how he had looked at her tonight, and how she had responded to his grins and frowns on instinct.

Her hands fluttered down over her body, gasping in surprise when her fingers brushed over her breasts and sent fire through her. Byleth knew about sex, but she had little interest in partaking herself. She had never found someone who interested her, and when her curiosity got the better of her, her fingers had always been enough. 

But thinking of Khalid’s hands on her created a desire more intense than she had felt before.

Byleth’s hand lingered on her breast, picturing Khalid’s strong hands upon her instead, feeling the perpetual warmth that he held. His other hand slipped between her legs, curling inside her slick entrance. He played her body with ease, pulling soft gasps from her over and over again. He squeezed her breast as he worked her over the edge, that smile on his lips as he watched her body go taunt, the smile that made Byleth’s heart feel as if it could beat. 

Byleth lay there, blinking up at the calendar mosaic on her ceiling, overwhelmed by what had just happened. She had never thought of another person before when she touched herself. It was yet another feeling she needed to figure out.

But her body was sated and relaxed. And after all that, Byleth finally drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a golden smile.

/

“You are an official concubine,” Tiana greeted her as Byleth staggered out into the tiny garden. She had barely shut her eyes before Esther was waking her up for breakfast with the Dowager Queen, doing her best to hide the sluggishness that pulled at her limbs. “Congratulations.”

Byleth was not sure how to answer Tiana, so she remained silent as she took her seat. Mǎhi was already at his usual place in the Dowager Queen’s lap, purring happily as Tiana scratched his head and fed him bits of pastry.

“Where have you gotten yourself to in the past few days anyways?” Byleth asked, addressing the cat. Besides his aborted attempt to join her in the bath, Mǎhi had not spent much time in her rooms.

“Apparently defacing my son’s study,” Tiana answered for Mǎhi. “There was an incident with some important documents having an unfortunate meeting with some ink covered paws,” she explained, not doing much to actually clarify. 

Byleth shook her head at Mǎhi, who ‘merr’ed and stared with wide innocent eyes. “You are fooling no one,” Byleth said flatly.

Tiana gave one last pet to Mǎhi before focusing her full attention on Byleth. “Now then, we have much to discuss.” She looked over Byleth’s shoulder to where Roxanne and Esther were standing the study, close enough to be called for but far enough away to not overhear. “My son may have discussed Kardar’s past actions with you, but I wish to focus on his future. I want to be a dozen steps ahead of him before he makes his next move.”

Byleth leaned forward, reaching for a pastry as she did so. “What do you need me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a Claude interlude. ;)  
> I am hoping to have it up on the two week schedule, but with the holidays it might take a little bit longer. But we will have one more update before the end of the year. Thank you guys for sticking with me this long.
> 
> Also, thank you to Anam for the hair braiding line. That was wholly her genius.


	14. Interlude II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a week late, but holidays and work were a bit insane. Also, pining Claude was being difficult about his pining. Still, I think I've got it all worked out, and I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Thanks as always to Mads for helping me work out the bumps in this.

Her growth was subtle but impressively fast. Khalid occasionally found the time to sit in on his mother’s and Byleth’s tea breakfasts, in which Tiana would quiz Byleth relentlessly until Khalid made some joke about her being a taskmaster.

Her lack of social knowledge when she arrived was shocking, but Byleth picked up and retained all of her lessons on etiquette and history, diplomacy and religion, at such a speed Khalid could not help being impressed.

He knew he was not the only one interested in her. Even a month later, with Tiana hiding her away while she learned, gossip went about the court, Byleth’s name on their tongues.

But they only knew the dancer who had dared point her sword at the king to get her way and defeated Kronya. They did not see her dedication, or the way in which she stared at the garden flowers. They did not know the woman who on a sleepless night he had shared the stars with, almost spilling his secret dreams to her, how far he truly wished to take his unification. None of them saw the adorable little scrunch her nose did whenever someone tied her name to a title. His eyes flickered to it every time.

Thankfully this also meant they did not see the way he stared at her, or overhear the teasing jabs they shared. People would get the wrong idea and think there was something more going on between them.

So it really should not have been a surprise when they finally turned her loose that Kardar immediately found his way to Byleth’s side. It was a test of will to keep the frown off his lips as he walked into the throne room and saw his ever opportunistic brother leaning over to whisper in her ear, his closeness treading the border of impropriety. 

But then his attention was on Kardar for a completely different reason. As the wyvern breeder uttered his petition, Khalid’s eyes flashed to Kardar, taking in the pleased smirk on his brother’s face. Whether it was because Kardar had something to do with the hatchling’s kidnapping or he was just happy to see Khalid squirm, Khalid was not sure.

There was a flurry of activity around him, plans put in place followed by contingency plans. His advisors were sent off with their orders, the city gates locked for the day. Every day after any outgoing cargo was to be thoroughly checked. It was made clear to each and every member of the city guard that if it was discovered they had taken a bribe that led to the thieves escaping the city, they would face the same execution sentence as the thieves. 

It was only when they were gone, and Khalid was left alone with Xio in his private study, Shamil curled up on his balcony for his own protection, that Xio gave voice to their fear.

“If we cannot find that hatchling, they will paint you as weak.”

Khalid sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I know.” He lifted his head to stare into those brown eyes, shocked by the worry and vulnerability he saw there. Khalid had not seen that look since Xio and Peni had cowered before him, their dresses torn and feet cut through worn out soles, in a time when Xio had gone by a different name.

Xio stood straighter under Khalid’s gaze, his face transforming with determination. “I will not fail you again, Khalid,” Xio promised, placing a hand over his heart and bowing. His actions were those of a subject to their king, but his words were those of a friend.

Khalid reached out, placing a hand on Xio’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “You never have, Xio. I need you out there.”

Xio nodded, holding Khalid’s gaze for a second longer before stepping around him.

Shamil’s low growl immediately took Khalid’s attention away from the closing door of his study. He stared in shock at Byleth’s cat boldly batting at the white wyvern’s nose, meowing curiously at the larger creature. Shamil, for his part, looked less than pleased to be annoyed by the tiny swatting paws.

Khalid could not help himself. He laughed, the noise spilling from his mouth. Shamil lifted his large head, glaring at his Barbarossa. Khalid held up his hands in appeasement. “I’m sorry, my friend, but you do have to admit it is rather funny.”

Shamil stared at him, making it clear the wyvern needed to make no such concession. He huffed loudly, jaws opening as his gaze went back to the cat. 

“No,” Khalid said as he stepped out onto the balcony, the sun’s warmth settling over him like a familiar outfit. “You cannot eat him.” He knelt before Shamil, scratching the wyvern's chin at that one spot that always drew Shamil’s lips back in a fanged grin. “It’s going to be uncomfortable for a bit, but I’m not about to risk those thieves somehow hurting you as well. You’re just going to have to tough it out here for a bit.”

Shamil huffed, butting his head against Khalid’s chest. Khalid patted the side of his scaly head once more before standing. “You’re right, buddy. Yes,” he added at Shamil’s snort, “you always are. Now, I’ve got work to do.”

And he did, issuing orders and complying reports from the investigation, all while making sure the rest of the country kept running smoothly. Meals were placed before him, Khalid nibbling at them absentmindedly on occasion, but his mind was fully focused on his duties.

Right up until the words on the page before him blurred, a series of blinks doing nothing to clear his sight. Khalid shook his head, sighing when he heard Shamil’s growl.

Khalid stepped out onto the balcony, scooping up the cat before Mâhi found himself in the belly of an annoyed bull wyvern. “You  _ will  _ end up in his stomach if you keep doing that.”

Mâhi just meowed, staring up at Khalid with wide innocent eyes. The chill of the night was giving way to the morning warmth as the sun peeked over the horizon. It was strange to him that this simple creature’s antics were what drew him out of the fuzziness he had found himself in. He was so tired, but there was still so much to do.

Mâhi curled up in his arms, the cat’s purrs rumbling against Khalid’s chest. “Let’s get you back to your mistress then, before you do become breakfast.” 

Kardar had talked to Byleth the day the wyvern went after all. He doubted anyone had thought to ask her about it yet, but maybe Kardar had said something to her. He was still working...right, yes, absolutely.

Khalid padded through the halls of the palace, slipping into Byleth’s room without issue. Esther and Roxanne looked up in surprise, in the middle of finishing their preparation for morning tea. Oh, so it was already Sunday. He really had lost track of time. “Please tell my mother her presence will not be required this morning.”

Roxanne bowed her head, muttering a “Yes, Your Majesty,” before stepping around him.

Khalid took a seat and waited, feeding bits of pastry to Mâhi who was incessantly smacking a paw against his arm. It was not long before Byleth joined him, beautiful with her hair pulled back and a loose gown swaying around her.

“Good morning, Byleth,” he greeted. He paused to feed Mâhi another scrap. “Tell me, what did you and Kardar discuss a few days ago.”

She shocked him, as she always seemed to do, when she answered him with, “Of course I will. Just as soon as you get some sleep.”

One did not give conditions to the King of Almyra. And yet, his body sagged, his exhausted mind grasping at the excuse to take a break. He found himself relenting under her unwavering gaze, walking himself over to her couch.

Under the force of her assuring presence, he might very well have been asleep even before he hit the cushions.

/

Lysithea insisted that the lamps were for study purposes. While Khalid did not doubt that there was some validity in that, he was half convinced they served another purpose. Namely they made it harder for any ghost to sneak up on her. When Khalid had pointed this out to Lysithea, well, he was just glad he did not come out of the encounter as a pile of ash. Despite that, it still put a smirk on his face whenever he saw one of those blue crystals lighting up the dark.

He wandered down the aisle of books, curious to find out who was still in the library this late. It did not surprise him when he saw Byleth, not with Lysithea and Tamora’s report of how she had taken to the university library, her hair loose around her shoulders, bent over a book on the table before her, the soft blue light giving her face a strange glow.

When she finally closed the book, Khalid realized he had been staring. “It’s going to look suspicious when you have to go sneaking back to your room.”

The tension flowed from her shoulders at the sound of his voice. Khalid tried desperately to ignore all too pleased feeling that filled his chest at that. “Perhaps I intended to stay until morning and circumvent that problem. Although, I fail to see how you’re not in the same boat as me.”

“A woman of learning, after my own heart,” Khalid said in melodramatic fashion as he slid into the seat across from Byleth. “And it  _ is  _ my palace. I am allowed to go about at night.”

There was that quiet smirk on her lips when she countered with, “Is that why you ditched Nader and your guards?”

Khalid felt the urge to stare, forcing himself to tear his eyes away and covering it up with a wave of his hand. He peeked at the book she was reading in order to give himself something else to look at besides that small smile that meant so many different things. “Oh, Shideh. I have not seen that book in awhile.”

Byleth nodded, her slim fingers tracing over the leather cover. “I finally see the difference between a wife and a queen,” she said lightly, as if it were some simple thing and not one of the most important underpinnings of the harem. 

Khalid blanched, unable to cover up that bit of surprise. “Mother did not-” he began, stumbling over his words. “Of course she didn’t.” He sighed, bracing himself for the coming conversation. There was really no way to avoid it without making her see the subject as more dire than he wanted her to believe it was. Byleth took it all in with that same steady ease, picking up the smaller details as Khalid brushed over them. He enjoyed doing this, talking to her about things that concerned his country. Of course, he would prefer if they were not specifically on something that touched so close to what little private life he had, which only served to war inside his mind to both extend and end the conversation.

But in truth, it was late, and they both needed sleep. So as their conversation came to its natural conclusion, Khalid offered to walk her back to her rooms. They traveled in a comfortable silence, accompanied by moonlight. And when he bid her good night, walking the short distance back to his own rooms, he brushed aside the feeling of heaviness that settled around him at leaving her behind.

/

How did they keep running into each other alone at night? How did she keep stealing his breath away? Khalid’s suspicious mind wanted to suspect Byleth of somehow orchestrating all these meetings, but she was always so honest. Her emotions were worn on her sleeve if one looked correctly, and Khalid felt himself pulled in every time he did so. He did not want to trust her, knew it was probably stupid to do so, and yet she filled him with a warmth and lightness no matter what his mind told him.

Her name slipped from his lips before he could pull the sound back into his throat. “Byleth.”

She looked up, blinking at him. Moonlight spilled around her, the jasmine flowers framed around her. Stars, she was breathtaking. He felt as if she were the moon and he the tide, continuously pulled along with her. 

“Khalid?” she asked, sounding concerned. 

It was only then that he realized he was staring. “You keep turning up in places late at night when you shouldn’t be,” he teased, trying to keep his tone light.

But instead of the answering jab he was expecting, Byleth’s face fell in a frown. The sight of her displeasure brought him up short. “I am in the safety of the harem, the only place I seem to be permitted anymore.”

“Oh.” Realization hit him. Byleth was unsettled under Tiana’s security, wanting to keep her safe for Khalid’s sake. It made sense for Byleth, who was used to traveling the roads between kingdoms, to feel trapped even if her cage was lavish, her every need seen to. Khalid stepped up beside her, breathing in the scent of the jasmine. “My mother’s restrictions are chafing at you then.”

“You asked me to stay to help you. I have spent the majority of my time here hiding away, and the second something does happen I am rendered useless.” 

As much as Khalid wanted to keep her safe, even knowing her capabilities, he understood that simmering anger in her voice. “Byleth,” he began, but Byleth was having none of it. Something had been freed inside her and it would not be satisfied until Byleth had had her say.

“My time here is halfway through,” she ploughed on. Khalid’s heart skipped, not knowing if it should beat harder or stop all together. “I have done little in the way of actually assisting you, which was the entire reason you asked me to stay.”

But she was right. Her time with him was almost done. In a few months she would leave the palace, possibly Almyra all together. He might very well never see her again. In all of it, Khalid had lost sight of his reason for asking her to stay. She was capable and resourceful. She was an arrow in his quiver and Khalid was hesitating to let her loose. 

He felt the mantle of king settle over him, the jasmine flower he did not even know he had reached for falling apart between his fingers. He was a fool.

“That’s right,” Khalid declared, his voice heavy with the authority of his station. “Your time here is limited. I should not have wasted so much of it. I do have a job I could use your help with. Let’s see if you’re up for it.”

He told himself he would not become a fool again, not because of her. Only a day later he ate those words when her messenger arrived back at the palace with news a chase was on. 

Khalid followed, once more the wave pulled by the moon.

/

Khalid collapsed back into his bed once Byleth left. The echoes of his birthday celebration had finally died out, leaving the palace with its usual nightly stillness. Come morning, everyone would be slow to wake, having indulged in one too many cups of wine, and the affairs of state would not be seen to until later in the day.

It gave Khalid plenty of time to get his own rest, but he was wide awake. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute, trying to process everything that had just happened between him and Byleth. 

He pressed the heels of his palms against his closed eyes, groaning as the image of Byleth laying on his bed shoved itself to the forefront of his thoughts. She had been willing to give herself to him, but he did not want her that way. No, that was not quite right. He wanted her, but not because she had been summoned. He wanted her to want him just as much. And that thought scared him.

Khalid had on occasion indulged an urge or two, but he had never trusted anyone enough to let them close like that. The memory of pain, of fire passing over his skin when his favorite governess had hugged him, bright sparks forming a crescent moon before his unfocused eyes as she burned along with him, came upon him every time he thought of holding another person in his arms. He could put on a show for the court, but in the privacy of his own chambers, the thought of risking something like that again sent his nerves into a panic.

And yet he had made a mistake when he laid down beside Byleth. He had thought nothing of it, studying the mosaic of rulers with her, another one of their conversations that replayed over and over again in his mind. But Khalid had to go and ask that one question, which had seemed so innocent. How could he have guessed where it would lead?

_ “What are you doing?” _

Byleth had answered him in that straightforward manner he had come to love. 

And therein lay his problem. 

_ “I thought this position would make things easy for you. Would you like me somehow else?” _

Heat had flooded his cheeks, the desire to reach out to her and take her in his arms almost overwhelming in the way in which it drowned him. The thought had come to him from nowhere. Truly, how was it that  _ that  _ was what made the realization come over him?

_ ‘I love you.’ _

Khalid had scrambled off the bed, reeling for the explanation he had prepared for her, to fully bring Byleth into his inner circle. His heart pulsed as if it would beat right out his chest and go straight to her. He had fought with himself to keep on task, distracted by the fact that  _ he loved her  _ and  _ she was so beautiful  _ and _ on his bed _ . 

His heart had managed to calm once the discussion went to wyverns and her training, back to those conversations he found so easy to indulge in. That confusing desire to hold her and his own panic did not stop warring with one another, but they calmed enough that he could treat them as no more than a mild annoyance. 

And then they had said goodbye.

Khalid groaned, his arms flopping to his sides. Even with her no longer in front of him, she had his mind in turmoil. Could he actually hold her? No, that was insane. Byleth did not care for him that way. She had already made it plain that she planned on leaving when her year of service to him was up. 

Maybe that was for the best. She would not be able to distract him then.

=

But was that true? She was certainly distracting him now without even being here. 

“Do I really love her?” Khalid whispered to no one but himself. The words wormed their way into his chest, making his whole body heavy. He knew the answer, but he could choose to ignore it, to cast it aside and forget about it. It would be good practice for when she left. 

_ You love her. _

_ You want her. _

He did. Somewhere along the line it had snuck up and ambushed him. Khalid sucked in a breath, holding it for a long moment within his lungs. When he let it out, he allowed himself to sink into the fantasy of loving her, if only to calm the war within himself. He would indulge in this moment, if only so he could say he had done so and push it aside. 

Khalid pictured Byleth back on his bed, laying beside her as they discussed everything and nothing, his heart lightening in the way it did when he spoke to her. His mind brought before him the image of how her face had looked when he turned his head to see her staring at him before, but this time he reached out, imaging her smooth cheek beneath his fingers. He pulled her close, giving her time to slip away should she choose, but Byleth leaned in eagerly. Their kiss was slow at first, simply indulging in the feel of one another, hands languidly exploring each other’s bodies. His fingers tangled in her hair, and it was as if he had given her a signal.

In reality, Khalid groaned, undoing the laces of his pants and palming his hardening cock. He stroked himself even as he imagined moving against her, within her, Byleth accepting him readily. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her ankles hooked behind his back as she tried to hold him as close as possible, neither ever wishing to let go of the other. Khalid’s pace grew more desperate, those three words slipping off his tongue over and over as Byleth pulled the confession from him without even trying.

He groaned loudly, hips bucking once more into his hand before white stars exploded in his vision. Khalid lay basking in the afterglow of his orgasm for a languid moment, only to curse himself as he came down from the high. 

He stood and made his way to his bathingroom, quickly cleaning up the rapidly cooling seed that had coated his stomach. His clothes were thrown aside, exchanged for a sleeping shirt, before he once more threw himself onto his bed. 

Indulgence had changed nothing. Byleth filled his mind, and that strange, confusing thought refused to stop floating through his head.

He loved her.

/

The beat of wyvern wings distracted Khalid, pulling his already frayed attention away from the stack of documents in front of him. Writs and reports would be the bane of his existence until he took a queen or appointed a regent, and probably still thereafter, but at least he would then have someone to help.

His unapproved trip a couple months ago also did nothing to help his feeling of entrapment. It seemed he only left the capital for political reasons anymore, and always under a contingent of guards. No one had ever insisted his father take so much security with him, but then, the assassins sent after Darius had far less support.

Khalid grumbled to himself as he turned to face the window, recognizing the old grizzled face of Nader’s war wyvern and the black stripes through the membrane of Byleth’s Selene. He longed to be out there again, to fly with her properly.

A startled ‘meow’ made Khalid sigh, turning back toward the object of all his current woes. Blinking back at him with large brown eyes, that perfected look of feigned innocence on his face, was Măhi. One front paw was lifted up, a piece of paper stuck to it. Măhi waved his paw, meowing loudly again, as if demanding Khalid help him.

“How do you keep managing that?” the king asked, stepped forward to help the cat. He was unsurprised to see the paw prints all over his papers, courtesy of the spilt ink jar. When Khalid pulled the paper off, it came with a thick coat of ink.

“Look at that, you even got your tail in it. I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose,” Khalid pointed out, eyeing the black streaks along the white and brown fur. Khalid clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Are you here for my lunch again, you naughty brat?”

Măhi meowed again, holding his tail high as he pranced to the edge of the desk, purring happily as he finally reached his goal, which was indeed Khalid’s aforementioned lunch.

Khalid had nibbled at the plate as he read, but ultimately left the majority of the food untouched. Măhi now happily ate his fill, uncaring of the trail of ink he had trekked across the old wood and important papers.

A soft knock on the door grabbed his attention. Brida stepped through, ever on guard so long as he decided he needed to work. She frowned as she announced, “Your Majesty, Lord Kardar requests an audience.” 

The corner of Brida’s lips quirked upwards at Khalid’s scowl. He would prefer not to have to entertain Kardar, but there were some insults even a king could not level. “Show him in,” Khalid answered with a wave of his hand. 

Brida stepped aside, allowing Khalid’s half-brother access to the study. She stepped inside, closing the door behind them both. It was normal protocol unless Khalid dismissed her, but with someone as dangerous as Kardar even if he had Khalid knew it would be a fight to make her go.

“What can I do for you, brother?” Khalid asked, leaning back in his seat, his last word treading the line between jovial and hostile.

Kardar sank into the seat on the opposite side of the desk, holding himself straight but relaxed. “I-” he began, only to be cut off by a loud and all too pleased ‘mmrrrhhh.’ Mâhi, having had his fill of Khalid’s lunch, jumped off the desk and onto Khalid’s lap. He paced in a circle, inked paws and all. “Where did you pick up that?” Kardar asked, completely distracted from his original course.

“He’s Byleth’s,” Khalid answered, staring down at Mâhi. The cat simply purred happily as he settled, Khalid giving in and patting the cat’s head. “He just comes in here because he likes to steal food.”

Kardar raised his brows, staring at them for a long moment. Khalid frowned, not too fond of his judgement, but he was not about to push Mâhi off and give Kardar the satisfaction. 

After a moment, Kardar rearranged himself, his focus back on hand. “It seems fitting it be Byleth’s cat. I did come here with information related to her.”

Khalid’s heart thudded heavily in his chest, but he kept his face neutral, waiting for Kardar to continue. He seemed to be savouring the moment as he folded his hands before him, adding melodrama to the moment that it really did not need.

“Everyone knows the fascination she holds over the court, although it was up in the air as to if you would indulge in her until the night of your birthday. Really Khalid, playing with your tools?” A smirk curled up Kardar’s lips, and Khalid suppressed the urge to ask him if he was trying to act the villain. “There have been rumors floating around about her ever since her first dance, but now that she is truly seen as important, there seem to be credible threats.”

Khalid knew the power of rumors, and while it was easy to dismiss them, there was usually something there. Some grain of truth or the start of some hidden agenda. But Xio had told him nothing of anything related to Byleth. “A threat?” Khalid questioned, trying not to appear too shaken. He had not forgotten the flower found in Byleth’s sheets, and that the man sitting in front of him was very likely the cause for its placement. Khalid had a suspicion Kardar was showing a bit of his hand now in some calculated risk, another step in setting up his own plans.

Kardar nodded, looking almost as if he was savouring the moment. “A kidnapping,” Kardar clarified. “I thought nothing of it at first, but my own spymaster caught some brigands. We believe they have connections to the thieves who took the hatchling.”

“And what makes you think these new criminals are after Byleth?”

“They were caught conversing with a Fódlani merchant.” Kardar’s eyes narrowed as the word laid on his tongue. “After some,” Kardar paused, rolling his wrist as he chose his next words, “questioning, they admitted they were paid to learn the best way into the palace. The merchant said something about it being related to returning the mercenary girl as some sacred duty, but we were unable to get much more out of him.”

“With your questioning?” Khalid clarified, knowing exactly what Kardar actually meant.

His brother nodded. “He would say no more after that. He seemed more afraid of his goddess than my spymaster’s knife.”

Khalid nodded, picking up a grumpy Mâhi and placing him back on the desk. He stood, straightening his ink strained tunic. “Have your spymaster meet with Xio. We would not want for them to succeed with someone else and make Almyra look the fool.”

Kardar nodded, gaining his own footing. As much as Kardar was a conniving snake, he held a reverence for the crown he had served his entire life. And one did not sit when the king stood. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” Kardar bowed, Brida opening the door for him, making it clear he was dismissed.

Khalid paced the length of his study once Kardar was gone, fighting the urge to race across the palace and check on Byleth. So he paced, Brida’s eyes silently boring holes into him. She would stay by his side, but politics were not her strength. She refused to involve herself.

But Khalid could not race to Byleth’s side. That would prove too many things to too many people who would use it as a blade against his throat. Still, Khalid could not stay here any longer.

He left his study, wandering along the halls of the inner palace without thought to where he was going. It really should not have surprised him that he ended up in front of his mother’s door, Tiana’s chambers his refuge for so many years now.

Tiana welcomed her son with her usual strictness, listening to his report. “And what will you do about it?” the Dowager Queen asked when Khalid was done.

“I don’t know,” Khalid admitted, feeling very much like the child who had snuck into these rooms looking for his mother’s comfort, “not yet.”

Tiana softened, standing and walking to Khalid’s side. She waved at one of her maids, but before Khalid could question, Tiana had sat beside him and wrapped her arms around him. His mind short circuited, telling him to push her away and run, before a more rational part reminded him that this was his mother, the only person who had always fought for him. Tiana had always been on his side. Khalid relaxed into her, allowing himself the moment of vulnerability.

“My lady,” Tiana’s maid announced herself some time later. Khalid lifted his head, tearing himself away. “Lady Byleth is here.”

“Show her in,” Tiana ordered.

Khalid looked over his shoulder, and there she was. Byleth stood in the doorway, safe and sound and beautiful. Khalid smiled at her, the motion full of too many emotions for his liking, but he could not help himself all the same.

Stars above, he really did love her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted back on schedule, so expect to see it on Jan 10!


	15. Verdant Rain Moon

_ “I want you to go back to Fódlan,”  _ Khalid had said.  _ “I want you to be my eyes there as Marianne will be my voice.” _

Byleth had stared at him, noting the tightness in his gaze and the way his fingers itched to curl into fists.  _ “You don’t want me to go,” _ she had countered.

Khalid gave her a long look, measuring her without the insincere charm upon his face.  _ “No, I don’t,” _ he had admitted, as if those three words had cost him a price too heavy to pay.  _ “But I need you to go. Something like this was exactly what I had in mind when I thought your skills as a mercenary would be useful. And that is what I need at this meeting.” _ He had paused for a long moment, his gaze turned toward the open archway. He had added in a whisper so low Byleth almost missed it,  _ “Promise you’ll come back.” _

_. _

And so Byleth found herself reentering Fódlan, crossing the Throat, into territory she had put behind her what felt like a lifetime ago.

Lorenz greeted them as they entered Gloucester territory, head bent close to Marianne’s as they planned their strategy against the Empire. This new Emperor, Edelgard, had focused her efforts on regaining control of the Kingdom, but Khalid wanted to take no chances with her attempting the same for the Alliance. When her scouts were caught poking along the Airmid River, Khalid had ordered Lorenz, his steward in the Alliance, to set up a meeting with the newly crowned Emperor to see just how presumptuous she truly was.

The weather was horrible, harsh rains slowing their progress. By the time the party had arrived at Fort Merceus, bathed and changed into new clothes, and hurriedly stuffed their faces with a quick meal, it was already time to meet with Edelgard and her entergouge. And as Marianne insisted, it would not due to be late right off the bat.

Edelgard nodded as they entered, violet eyes scanning each of them as the Alliance representatives filed into the room and took their places. A dark haired man stood behind her right shoulder, while a red headed man seated at her side stood respectfully until Marianne took her seat.

Byleth surveyed the room from her position behind Marianne. There were two doors on either side of them, Alliance guards stationed at each. Behind Edelgard was another set of large double doors, Imperial soldiers taking up position there. The dark eyes of the Emperor’s right hand lingered on her, pegging her as the major threat in the room, but Byleth refused to flinch away.

“I must admit,” Edelgard began, “I expected to see more Almyrans in your party.”

“This is an Alliance matter at heart,” Marianne answered, sounding as steady as when she took charge in the healing wings. “Duke Reigan has entrusted us to see after the interest of the land of his mother’s people.”

Smart, Byleth thought, reminding Edelgard that Khalid was not some conqueror, as she would be seen if she tried to absorb the Alliance. No, Khalid had claimed the title of Sovereign Duke through birthright and with his own winning charm.

“Very well,” Edelgard said, sounding pleased with the response. “Let us begin then.”

/

“When I heard the Ashen Demon was coming, you were not what I was expecting.”

Byleth continued her inspection of the meeting room, keeping the man she had learned was named von Vestra in her periphery. “Do you always stand about in the shadows like that?”

“When it serves,” Hubert answered, stepping forward just enough for the firelight to claw the shadows away from him. “But such tactics do not work on you, do they?”

Byleth stopped and fully turned to face Edelgard’s right hand. “Nor do I have the patience for such vague words. Stop dancing with me and get to the point.”

“I had heard you were quite the dancer,” Hubert gave one last jab before continuing. It did not surprise her that he had found out about her time in Matti’s troupe. “Why did Duke Riegan send you here?” Hubert asked, using Khalid’s Fódlani name.

“To protect Lady Marianne,” Byleth answered, reminding herself to use Marianne’s title. Her hand rested easily on the hilt of her sword. It was not a lie, what she had told him, even if it was not the main purpose of her being included in the visit. 

If Hubert was annoyed by her response, he did not show it in the least. He practically purred a, “Is that right?” He even stroked his chin. Byleth simply watched him, feeling he knew how hard he was playing into the storybook villain troupe. “I am surprised he would allow you to leave his side. Everything I have heard says that he is rather fond of you.”

Byleth crossed her arms, and stared him down. “You seem to have misunderstood the nature of our relationship.”

“Have I?” Hubert seemed rather pleased at that. “Excellent. Then I take it you will be returning to Fódlan in a few months when your year of service is up?” 

Byleth remained silent. She refused to ask how he had found out that little tidbit. Only those of Khalid’s inner circle knew about her deal with the king. 

“Well,” Hubert continued, seemingly accepting he would not acquire an answer from her, “should you do so, the Ashen Demon’s blade would certainly find work here in the Empire.”

Byleth was not fool enough to think for one second this little encounter was about hiring a mercenary, even one of her skills. And Hubert was not the only one with information. She had heard of his legendary dedication to Edelgard. She had a hard time believing he would so easily welcome anyone into their fold. She stepped forward, heading for the door behind him.

“And be the mouse caught in your trap?” Byleth shook her head, not breaking stride as she shot one last comment over her shoulder. “I think not, cat.”

Byleth was halfway back to their rooms when she allowed the tremble she had suppressed to pass through her. Hubert would have no reason to trap her specifically. No, if there was a trap at all then she would serve as bait. 

She would cut him down first before allowing that to happen.

/

“That was excellently done, Lady Edmund.”

Marianne turned her head at Lorenz’s compliment. “Thank you, Sir Gloucester, but Marianne is just fine.”

“Then I must insist you call me Lorenz.”

Byleth shook her head. She wondered how long it would take Lorenz to realize he stood no chance with the blue haired woman whose heart was already claimed by another. She had spent enough time around Marianne and Hilda the last few months to catch them sharing love sick glances whenever they thought no one was looking.

“Byleth?” Marianne’s voice, back to meek and timid, brought Byleth’s attention back to the chatting nobles. “Do you think we should head to the Locket in the morning? Khalid won’t be expecting us back so soon.”

“I don’t think anyone expected us to come to an agreement in only two days,” Lorenz interjected.

Marianne blushed at the indirect praise, but she deserved every bit of it. She had performed splendidly. 

Byleth shook her head, going back to Marianne’s question. “Actually, if Lorenz is all right with it, it might be best to stay in Gloucester for a few days.”

Lorenz, who had barely spared a glance for Byleth during the entire trip, suddenly looked at her with a new light. Understanding quickly flickered across his face as he understood the true intentions behind Byleth’s suggestion. “But of course. My father has a hunting lodge a few days east of here along the river. It is lovely this time of year. Would you like to see it, Marianne?”

Marianne bowed her head and accepted Lorenz’s offered hand as he began to lead them back inside. “That does sound like a nice distraction.”

And as they would be traveling along the river, Byleth would have ample time to see if Edelgard was truly pulling back troops as agreed. 

/

“What do you think? Really.”

Byleth turned her head as Marianne joined her. She had taken to spending her evenings in an out of the way lounge, tucked away likely by some Glouschter who valued privacy. It was rather cozy, and Byleth claimed one of the plush chairs as her own, raiding the bookshelves for something to read that night. She was slightly put out that it was still too warm for a fire. The entire room was built around a lavish fireplace, and she would have enjoyed the noise of it crackling away as she read. 

As Marianne sank gracefully into a chair next to her, Byleth closed her book, giving the other woman her full attention. “About Edelgard?” she asked to clarify.

Marianne nodded, hands folded in her lap. Byleth was glad to see Marianne did not bow her head, holding her gaze as she waited for an answer. 

Byleth hummed lightly, readjusting in her chair as she gave the question serious thought. “I think she’ll stick to the terms, at least for now.”

“Until it no longer serves her interest,” Marianne added.

Byleth nodded, agreeing with her assessment. “So exactly what we expected.” Byleth sighed softly and shook her head. “Edelgard will be weakened once this war is over, not as much as we first thought if the reports from Farghus are accurate. Her surprise attack against Garreg Mach, and subsequent rapid seizures of key positions within the Kingdom have put her at a distinct advantage. But in the end, she wants Fódlan united once more. That means absorbing the Alliance as well.”

“You don’t think she will try to attack us after she has finished with Farghuas, do you?” Marianne asked. 

Byleth was silent for a long moment before she responded. “Attack? No, at least not a full scale invasion like she did with the Church and Kingdom, if she’s smart. Even before this I doubt she had the manpower to take the Alliance with Almyra backing it. It is unlikely she has a very accurate read on how strong Almyra’s military is, not with the way Khalid has structured the army. But there are other ways to take down a country, and that’s what we need to be concerned with.”

Marianne blanched and paled, that tremor coming back ever so slightly to her voice. “You think she will do something to Khalid? She would dare?”

“It’s what I would do, if I was in her position.” Byleth felt her features settle into that neutral expression that unnerved so many. She remembered the dark shadow of a man that had stood at Edelgard’s back, her stomach churning at the thought of what Hubert might be capable of. “Either by undermining Khalid’s ability to lead or taking him out of the picture completely.”

Marianne’s fists curled in her lap, bunching up the fabric of her skirt. “I will not allow that,” she declared, her determination startling Byleth.

The corners of Byleth’s lips turned, offering Marianne a reassuring smile, so different from her usual frown that even the small difference in her expression stood out clearly. 

“Nor will I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we just had a chapter in Claude's pov, but the next chapter will also be in Claude's pov. There are certain...things, that happen, and in trying to write it out, they were more easily put into perspective from Claude's pov. And I think doing the scene from both would, in this case, be repetitive. 
> 
> Next chapter should be up on the 24th. Hope you guys are looking forward to it!


	16. Horsebow Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full warning, this is not a happy chapter. Bad things happen. I love you all, but I know you're going to be angry with me after this.
> 
> As ever, thank you to Mads for her continuous help in helping me edit.

_ “You came back.” _

_ “Of course I did.” _

Khalid relaxed back in his seat, watching as the members of his inner circle mingled. He let the light laughter wash over him, allowing himself to bask in a joy that had no double edge to it.

“You’re happy,” Byleth pointed out in her blunt way.

He turned to look at her. Byleth was clad in her flowing dancer’s gown, charms clinking together softly when she moved. Khalid flashed her a smirk, only belatedly realizing it was too wide. “Why wouldn’t I be? Both you and Marianne came back safely, and with an arrangement that keeps those under my protection in Fódlan safe.”

“For now,” Byleth added flatly. She had already informed Khalid of her meeting with Hubert, and he had shared her suspicions.

“For now,” Khalid repeated in agreement. Only a fool would think Edelgard appeased forever. He picked up a goblet of wine sitting on the table next to him, taking a languid sip. “That does not change that Marianne did a wonderful job and we should celebrate.”

“Oh, Claude will use any excuse to throw a party,” Hilda interrupted, the slip of his Fódlani name strange on his ears. She let her body flop into the plush cushions of the couch across from them. “Not to say that Marianne wasn’t amazing, because she was.”

“Hilda.”

Marianne blushed as Hilda pulled on her hand, encouraging the other woman to join them. Marianne tripped over herself, her cheeks glowing bright red when she landed in Hilda’s lap. Khalid grinned as Marianne scrambled off of Hilda, but remained at her side, their fingers still intertwined. He was glad they were growing close and beginning to finally acknowledge their feelings.

His eyes flickered back to Byleth, refusing to acknowledge the way his heart did a weird flutter whenever he looked at her now. 

He was not a hypocrite. Not at all.

With Marianne at her side, Hilda continued. “He loves feasts,” she directed at Byleth. “He’ll use any excuse.”

“Hey!” Khalid protested. It was true, but Hilda had framed it so crudely. 

Hilda met him with a look that conveyed he did not have a leg to stand on. She held up her hand, lifting a finger with each example. “He goes all out for festivals, the smallest victory, new trade agreements, birthdays-”

Hilda cut herself off, realization flashing in her eyes at the same moment Khalid sat up. “Speaking of,” she sang in sugared tones, “when is your birthday, Byleth?”

“Oh.” Byleth seemed startled, blinking at Hilda as if she had just suggested Byleth go skinny dipping. “Um, I’m not sure actually,” she answered after a moment.

Hilda balked, her mouth hanging open. “You don’t know? What? How is that possible?”

Byleth shrugged, brushing the issue off as if it was not a big deal. Khalid hid his own shock behind his cup. She had hunted Kronya down to avenge her father, so obviously he must have done something to inspire loyalty, but he had to wonder at what type of father did not tell his own daughter her birthday.

Marianne patted Hilda’s hand as she sputtered. “Was there ever a day your father did something special? Maybe gave you gifts or got you something sweet, like a cake?” she asked in her soft voice. “Any time he specifically took just for you?”

Byleth mulled the question over, unbothered by the three sets of eyes upon her. “Usually he got me some sort of treat at the beginning of Guardian Moon.”

Khalid’s heart sank. Guardian Moon was far behind them now. And the next one, well, she would not be here for the next one, would she?

“But,” Byleth continued, Khalid’s heart leaping, some nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he was a fool, clutching to that ‘but’ as if Byleth had thrown him a lifeline. “He did always make sure we weren’t on a job on the 20th of Horsebow Moon. Everyone was given the day off, and Jeralt would take me fishing all morning.” Byleth’s eyes sparked for a moment, recalling the memory, but her head dropped a moment later. Khalid did not like that look of grief. “But by the evening he wished to be left alone to drink.”

“The 20th?” Hilda jumped to her feet, staring down Khalid. “That is only a week away!”

Khalid nodded, taking a moment to weigh Byleth’s words. He wondered at the torn image Byleth had painted of her father. He could think of an obvious reason for the mix of celebration and grief, and wondered if Byleth ever thought of the missing member of their family. She had never mentioned her mother, not once, as if she simply had never been around.

But that was not to be dwelled on now. He shot Hilda a lazy grin. “A week is more than enough time to throw Byleth something brilliant.”

/

“Is there a reason you are sneaking around my chambers before dawn?”

Khalid answered Byleth with a grin, lifting his head so that it could be seen beneath the hood of his cloak. “I think it would be rather obvious,” he answered, holding out one of the fishing poles he carried. 

Byleth blinked at him, reaching out for the pole as if she almost could not believe it was real. “Khalid, what-?”

“You forgot what today is, haven’t you?” Khalid pouted. He sighed dramatically, picking up the picnic basket at his feet. “Well, I’m just going to have to make sure you have such a good time today, you never forget again. Happy birthday, Byleth.”

/

Khalid laughed along with Hilda, the Goneril woman looking rather pleased at the blush spreading across Marianne’s cheeks. His inner circle surrounded him, indulging in wine and gentle conversation. It was a simple feast by his standards, but he had known Byleth would be uncomfortable with a larger affair in which she was the center of attention. His eyes drifted across the private garden to where Byleth sat with Tiana, Măhi curled up on her lap. 

Tiana glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, Khalid looking away hurriedly as if he was some small boy caught with his pockets full of desserts. He had caught glances coming from his inner circle more often lately, but his mother’s stare was the one that he could never brush off. He could convince everyone else that his growing closeness with Byleth was due to her usefulness, and their growing friendship, but not Tiana. He strongly suspected his mother knew the true depths of his feelings - perhaps even better than he did, if he were to be honest with himself, which he certainly was not about to do.

Thankfully the cooks arrived, the strong aroma of the plates they carried drowning out the scent of the flowers surrounding them. There were a dozen fish dishes, his and Byleth’s haul after their morning fishing. Or well, Byleth’s haul after she had spent the morning teaching him to fish. Still, he had enjoyed his time alone at her side, sneaking off down to the docks that bordered the river that cut the city in two, pretending for a few hours not to have the cares of the nation on his shoulders. 

Khalid teased Lysithea as she piled her plate with nothing but sweets, laughing when she brandished a candied date at him like a weapon, and fixed his own plate. On a whim, and definitely not because he saw that his mother had left Byleth’s side and she was sitting by herself, he fixed a plate for her as well.

“Here,” he greeted, handing Byleth the extra plate as he sank down into the plush cousins next to her on the couch that had been dragged out into the garden for them. 

Her lips lifted in that barely there smile, and Khalid mentally cursed himself for the way his heart took flight. He was happy to have yet another distraction as Măhi meowed loudly, jumping up from his place in Byleth’s lap and placing two paws on Khalid’s plate. He looked up at Khalid with those large eyes, to which Khalid rolled his own. He reached over, breaking off a piece of fish for the cat. 

Khalid just shook his head as Măhi gingerly took the fish, meowing happily, the cat’s sandpapery tongue tickling Khalid’s fingers. “One would think you were the king with how often I end up serving you,” he teased the cat.

“Măhi, no,” Byleth protested, her voice weak. 

Khalid lifted his head, meaning to flash her his charming smile, because truly he did not mind at all. But when he saw Byleth’s face, he felt as if someone had wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed. “Byleth! What’s wrong?”

Everything stopped around them, but Khalid’s world had shrunk to Byleth. To the blood running thickly from her nose, the sight of it on her teeth when she opened her mouth to draw in a labored breath. Her skin had drained of any color she had gained beneath the Almyran sun. She looked so small and frail, and when Khalid reached out, fingers wrapping around her wrist without thinking about what he was doing, Byleth was already cold to the touch.

And then Măhi coughed, sounding as if he were trying to hack up a hairball. Byleth’s eyes went to her cat, sad and forlorn. Khalid saw the same labored breaths as Măhi fought to breathe, felt the warmth as the cat coughed up blood onto his pants. 

_ Poison _ , his mind screamed. He had to fix this. He had to-

Byleth fell forward, collapsing against him, and the only thing Khalid could hear was the howling void screaming her name. 

/

The perfect day Khalid had planned for Byleth ended in disaster, of that there was no doubt. The food was cleared away as Khalid paced, his heart leaping for joy when the physician managed to rouse Byleth. Tiana had pulled him aside, and he knew the discussion on security was important, knew his mother feared for him, but as ever, Byleth drew his attention.

Tiana finally released him, trusting the discussion to Nader and Xio, who were actually paying attention and contributing. A nervousness flooded through him as Khalid walked the distance to Byleth, staring at her back for what felt like an eternity. She had situated herself at the side of the garden, facing the bulwark of flowers, away from the guests still allowed to remain. His chest ached as he stepped to her side, now able to see the small furred body in her lap. 

Măhi had not been as lucky as his mistress.

Khalid said nothing as he sank onto the grass next to Byleth, watching her hand pet along Măhi’s still side. No one came near them, respecting the invisible bubble that had built itself around the pair. Khalid was glad for a moment free from the chaos behind them, but he knew he had not entered into a happier situation.

“I wasn’t poisoned.”

Byleth’s voice was calm, a distant quality to it. Her words were so unexpected, both in content and the break in silence, that Khalid was left blinking in open shock at her.

“Byleth…” Her name weighed on his tongue, keeping him from finding any other words that would lighten the load.

Her hand stilled, head tilting as she did when she listened to someone. But there was no one else besides the two of them. Byleth’s brow creased ever so slightly, something Khalid would have written off as a trick of the light if he had not spent the past few months studying her reactions.

“I wasn’t poisoned,” Byleth finally repeated. “I didn’t even eat any of the food.” There was a shift in her focus as her attention turned itself back on him. Khalid scooted closer, stopping himself just short of brushing up against her side. His hands itched with the memory of her chilled skin, his desire to hold her and make sure that cold had faded at war with his fear of ever letting anyone touch him again.

“I can rewind time.”

.

.

.

.

.

Khalid had no idea what to do with that. If anyone else told him that he would think they were insane. But Byleth...no, how could he believe her words when they implied something so strange. At the very least Byleth believed what she was saying, her words spoken in that same easy honesty that made it so hard for Khalid to distrust her.

“I did it once in the fight against Kronya.”

Memories flashed, settling on that moment at the end of the fight, when Byleth had struck her final blow. The sweep of her blade back up, knocking aside the hastily throwing dagger meant to seek his heart, had been a thing of beauty. Almost as if she had known it would happen.

It made a certain sort of sense.

And Khalid really could not believe he was entertaining this idea.

“And when I caught that assassin on the rooftops.”

Khalid had read multiple reports from guards stationed upon the rooftops that ran along the parade route who had seen Byleth’s takedown of the unfortunate man. The move she had used had been described as unorthodox but effective.

“So why tell me now?” Khalid asked, his voice effortlessly gentle.

“Because I want you to understand what happened,” Byleth answered. Her eyes stared down at her lap, her hand pausing the gentle petting. “I used my powers tonight. I tried to save Măhi, but when I did you ate before I could stop you. So I tried again and again, but one of you always ate. I couldn’t rewind far enough to give myself enough time. I watched one of you gasping for breath no matter what I did. I tried so hard, but I reached the limits of my power. That’s what made me pass out. I failed, and I had to choose.”

Byleth’s voice trembled over the last line. In the dark, Khalid almost missed it, the drop of moisture that slid from her cheek and landed on Măhi’s fur.

She had chosen him.

Khalid let loose a long exhale, leaning back on his hands to stare up at the sky above. Looking at Byleth was becoming overwhelming.

Did he believe her? As strange as it was, he did. If Byleth had lied to him before now, he had yet to catch her in it. Now the question was what to do with it. Quite possibly it was also if he was trending toward insanity himself.

“Are you going to send me away?”

Khalid blanched, almost falling over. “Why would you think that?”

Byleth blinked at him, the tears gone from her eyes now. “I know there has to be the question of my involvement in this.”

“Ah.” Khalid nodded, understanding. The steadiness in his voice disappeared as his next words spilled forth, needing to ask her. “Do you want to leave? I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to escape all these political games.” The words of release were on his tongue. He could do it. He could release her from her vow and ask her to stay without it to bind her by his side. But Byleth had already said she would leave, and Khalid was a selfish creature. He did not want to risk her leaving and losing the last few weeks he had with her. Stars above, two months. That was all that was left in their year.

Byleth was silent a long while, Khalid’s mind racing as he waited for her answer, thinking up a million responses she could give. Each one was worse and more devastating to his heart than the last. Finally, after an eternity, Byleth shook her head. “No. I want to see this through.”

Of course, ever the professional. The Blade Breaker had well taught his daughter their trade.

Hurt and relief mixed within him in equal measure. Khalid went back to leaning on his hands, seeking out familiar constellations that had comforted him since his childhood. “As for your involvement, perhaps it has come up, but I seriously doubt it. It certainly hasn’t in my presence. And if you were lying to cover your tracks, you’d come up with something a bit less crazy sounding than you can reverse time.”

Byleth blinked at him, her mouth working for a moment before she managed, “You believe me?”

His instincts were to say whatever he knew would keep her at his side, to charm and cajole. But when he looked at Byleth, those blue eyes of hers stared through him, his soul offered up for judgement. “I don’t know,” he ended up answering truthfully. “I want to believe you, and in some ways it makes a certain amount of sense. But you basically just told me you can defy reality, and that’s something my brain is struggling with a bit.”

Byleth nodded. “Understandable,” she allowed. 

There was another long pause, in which Khalid’s mind began to sort all the strings of his thoughts, beginning to weave it into a tapestry in which the picture was not a giant knot. He felt much calmer and settled when Byleth asked, “Do you think Kardar did this?”

Khalid considered the question for the moment it deserved. “Possibly, but in this case he would be at the bottom of my list. I have no doubt that Kardar wants me dead, but he wants to make a show of it. When he makes his move, he will want people to know it was him. Gives him more stability if he succeeds and takes my throne. He could use poison, but that would be seen as a weak weapon, and he would start his rule off considerably weakened. Besides, he also knows that Măhi...ate from my plate.” He stumbled, having to remind himself to use the past tense. “Kardar wants you on his side, and he would not have risked harm coming to Măhi and giving you a reason to hate him.”

“I already am not fond of him,” Byleth pointed out.

Khalid offered her a tired smile. “Don’t let him know that.”

Byleth shook her head, letting his comment pass for now. “Who do you think did this then? Edelgard?”

Khalid hummed lightly. “I would put her higher on the list, or at least her shadow, but it seems too early to me for them to make a move.” In truth, Khalid did not have a full grasp on Hubert, and for all he knew could have decided to eliminate him now even before confirming if he could be useful to the Imperial cause. But as Khalid saw it, there was too much to risk if he failed and was discovered before the Empire had dealt with finishing off the Kingdom and the Church.

In a dark corner of his mind, Khalid remembered Kardar’s words, his warning of some mysterious force coming for Byleth. Did someone else know about her powers? If it was true, he could easily see someone carving a path of destruction to gain her abilities, or to stop anyone else from using them.

Byleth sighed, her shoulders slumping under the weight of the entire evening. “I’m tired, Khalid.”

He nodded, pushing himself off the ground and brushing off his pants. “Of course. We should definitely get you to bed.” He winced at his poor wording, but Byleth did not seem to notice as she got to her feet. It was an awkward movement, Byleth still cradling Măhi’s body to her chest. Khalid made the conscious decision to reach out and steady her, a thousand warning bells going off in his head as they touched. And yet, he could not help noticing her skin had warmed from its previous chill. “We’ll have a small ceremony for him first, if you want.”

Byleth blinked at him, his heart thudding against his ribs as he watched her features melt and soften. “I would appreciate that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up on the 7th. I do start a new job tomorrow, so it may be delayed until the 14th, but I will try my best to get it to you on time.


	17. Wyvern Moon

_ “Are you angry with me?” _

Sothis ‘hrumph’ed, power swirling around her, but it dissipated as quickly as it had built up. She crossed her legs, propping an elbow up on the arm of her throne. _ “Over a week passes without a word from you, and now you wish to talk. No, not angry,” _ she answered with a sigh.

_ “Just disappointed?” _ Byleth attempted to joke, but it sounded lame in her own mind.

_ “No, not that either.” _ Sothis sighed, unfolding her legs and kicking them at the air lazily.  _ “I understand why you told him. Still, it does not make you less the fool. At least you did not tell him about me.” _

_ “I wouldn’t do that without your permission,”  _ Byleth answered. Inside her room in the palace, Byleth allowed herself to fall back, cushioned by the soft sheets on her bed. Her hands itched, searching for Măhi’s soft fur. He had always seemed to know when she needed comforting and would curl up with her. She was not yet used to his absence.

_ “But you want to tell him,” _ Sothis pointed out.

Byleth hummed a note of agreement.  _ “I feel as if he can tell I am holding something back still. He is so slow to trust, and it makes it feel as if there is still a barrier between us.” _ She went silent, turning over and resting her head on top of her crossed arms. Outside her window, a red winged bird sat upon the sill. It chirped, fluffing out its feather before spreading its wings and taking flight. Byleth wondered if it was the same bird she had seen her first time upon being alone in this room.

_ “I think,”  _ Byleth began slowly, _ “that Khalid will think of some way to use my powers, but I don’t want it to become a tool for him. That’s not how I’ve been using it, and I don’t want to change that. Instead of taking a step closer to each other, it would place a divide between us that neither of us could cross again.  _

_ “On the other hand, we have made no progress on figuring out  _ our  _ connection. I think his perspective on this might be useful. Khalid certainly knows more about the Fódlani religion than I do.” _

_ “Hmm.”  _ Sothis faded from her throne, appearing floating beside Byleth just inches above the mattress. _ “Perhaps, although if that were your argument it seems more useful to tell that shy orator girl instead. As to your other point, he most certainly would have found a use for you if you had told him from the beginning, but I am not so sure now.”  _ Sothis sighed again, stretching her arms above her head.  _ “The two of you are certainly exhausting. I am in need of a nap.” _ She appeared once more on her throne, curling up. _ “I shall think on you telling your king about me. It would be nice to make some progress on discovering why the two of us are connected.” _

Byleth did not mind silence, but in the wake of her conversation with Sothis, she felt it settle on her as if someone were piling bricks upon her chest. She huffed, pushing herself off the bed and walking to her wardrobe. It was still early afternoon. She had more than enough time for a flight.

Well, she would if she could find her leathers. Nader had seen to it that Byleth was properly outfitted for a wyvern saddle. Between the harness and the scales, one did not wear simple cotton when riding if it could be helped, and if they did then they would certainly pay for it by the end of the trip. The leather coverings he had given her were nowhere to be found.

Byleth stared displeased at her closet, as if she could somehow intimidate it into giving up what she sought. (She was actually pouting, not that she realized it.) When it failed to work, Byleth’s shoulders slumped and she turned around, heading for the opposite side of the room.

Byleth knocked on the panel that hid the entrance to Esther and Roxanne’s room. When no one answered, Byleth tried again, her brow creasing with concern. Still no answer.

Slowly, Byleth pushed aside the panel. She had never been inside her handmaidens’ rooms before, not wanting to intrude on their privacy. The panel opened into a narrow hallway, lit by one of Lysithea’s blue crystal lamps. Byleth stepped through, catching the sound of low voices.

She was truly worried now. The voices were two low for her to make out words, but they certainly did not sound happy.

When Byleth stepped out of the hallway she found it opened into a spacious bedroom much like her own, where two smaller beds had been placed. Roxanne sat cross legged on one, her face dark with fury. Esther stood with her back to Byleth, her shoulders tense. “What should I have done then?”

Roxanne opened her mouth to answer, snapping shut when she saw Byleth over Esther’s shoulder. Her eyes briefly flashed back to Esther. “Certainly not that,” she answered sharply, before allowing her attention to return to Byleth. “How can we help, my lady?”

Esther spun around, her face a mix of shock and fear when she saw Byleth. “My lady!” She bowed her head, a gesture Byleth had long ago talked Esther out of, but it seemed more as if Esther were attempting to hide her reaction rather than show respect.

“I was looking for my riding leathers,” Byleth answered slowly, gaze flicking between the two. 

Roxanne slid off the bed, her movements jerky and rough, the type of movement Matti had chastised Byleth for when she first came to Almyra. “I took them to be cleaned. They should be done by now.”

“I’ll come with you,” Byleth said, falling into step beside Roxanne.

Roxanne nodded sharply but did not look back. Byleth threw one last glance to Esther, the other woman’s face still hidden.

“Roxanne?”

“Don’t,” she snapped. Byleth could swear there were tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Roxanne shook her head, repeating much more gently, “Don’t. Please, just let it be.”

Byleth was not particularly happy with that, but she also doubted that prying right now would make the situation any better. “All right,” she answered, keeping her own tone calm. “If that’s what you want.”

Roxanne gave a laugh, an almost mad sound. She said nothing else, leaving Byleth to follow her through the halls in silence.

/

Byleth plopped herself down onto Khalid's plush bed, while the man himself grinned over his shoulder at her. "You're becoming quite familiar," he chastised without any real discipline behind his words.

Byleth simply shrugged and laid back. Her own bed was more than adequate, all soft pillows and silk sheets, but Khalid's was like something out of a dream. She would be spoiled now, dreaming of the comfortable mattress if she ever took back to her life of mercenary work, which of course would include sleeping on the rough earth from time to time.

"You've summoned me for almost a straight week now. People are going to start talking if you keep this up," Byleth pointed out. She closed her eyes, sinking into the sheets. They smelled so strongly of Almyran pine, and she had to fight the urge to roll over and bury her face within the material. 

"That's the plan."

Khalid had kept his voice light, but Byleth knew him well enough by now to pick up on the hint of trepidation there. He was hesitant for some reason.

She pushed herself up on her elbows, staring at his back as Khalid continued to write. “What?” She could hear the grin in his voice. “No demand to know what I’m up to?”

“You’re always up to something,” Byleth replied without hesitation.

Khalid snorted, a sound that had the corners of Byleth’s lips fighting to turn upward, before he finally turned around to face her. “We’re getting closer on Kardar.”

Byleth sat up, staring at Khalid. “I told you,” he continued, answering her unspoken question, “Kardar is clever, but always impatient when the finish line is in sight.”

“Does that mean you can arrest him?”

Khalid shook his head. “One does not usually arrest a member of the royal family. I mean, I could…” He trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Usually they are too well connected to stay in jail,” Byleth finished for him.

Khalid snapped his fingers, inclining his head with a wink. “Right in one.” Khalid reached for the box on his desk, staring down at it as he walked back to the bed. “I know you don’t particularly like deception, but I need your help on this.” The words were pulled on the edge of a hook, as if someone had to forcefully fish them from Khalid’s mouth. There was a conflict in him, a desire Byleth could see to trust her mixed with his naturally suspicious mind. “This might take longer than the month you have left.” He drew in a deep breath, his fingers itching around the edges of the box. “Will you stay to see it done?”

Byleth did not even need to think on the question. “I’ll see the job through.”

Khalid smiled, full of relief and so much softer than those false ones he used to charm his court. “Excellent.” His deft fingers snapped open the box, revealing a beautiful pair of earrings. A large emerald stone was set in gold. The gem was so eye-catching it tore attention away from the setting, which was perhaps why the base was a simple circle. Another circle of white gold reinforced the first, more intricate than the last, carved into thin fillegry that a talented hand had woven around the entire piece.

Khalid reached into the box, holding up one of the earrings. The emerald caught the candlelight, brightening it to the same shade as Khalid’s eyes. 

No, not Khalid’s. These were made for a woman. These were Tiana’s.

“My father gave these to my mother as a wedding gift, the night he had her stay in his bed until dawn,” Khalid explained, some form of trepidation shaking his voice. There was an almost far-off quality to him, as if should Byleth reach her hand out to touch him Khalid would simply fade away. But his eyes locked with Byleth’s, and the spell he wove over her stole her breath.

“Are you giving them to me?” Byleth found herself asking. It sounded lame and obvious against her ears.

Khalid hesitated. His hand visibly trembled, the earring shaking in his grasp, before he snapped it up and returned it to the box.  “I am.” The words were said in a rush of breath, so open Byleth could see Khalid handing his heart to her.  “My mother has not worn these in a long time, but there are still those in court who know what they are.”

Byleth reached out to take the offered box, her fingers tracing reverently over the wood. He was doing his best to keep that mask of his up, but there were a dozen different cracks through which Khalid’s true self shone. 

“When do you want me to wear them?” Khalid would not have taken the first step on this path if he did not have its trajectory laid out.

“When I hear petitions tomorrow. And then in any public appearance after that. They’re a little weighty so I won’t ask you to wear them while in the harem.” He ended on a joke, but his eyes were locked on her, waiting for her reaction. 

Byleth nodded, cradling the box in her lap. “What else?”

Khalid smirked, running his fingers through his hair. “Oh, Byleth, my life would be so much easier if everyone understood me as well as you do.”

Khalid sank onto the bed, one leg tucked under him, twisting so the other still hung off the edge of the mattress. “I need you not to leave tonight until just before dawn.”

Byleth sucked in a breath, her chest aching. She had felt that before, that hammar. Sothis gasped, the throne trembling around her. Byleth shook her head, trying to clear it. “You want Kardar to think you’re considering taking me as a wife,” she clarified, attempting to turn his attention back to the matter at hand.

Khalid held his posture for a long moment, that phantom beat still echoing in Byleth’s chest as she fought not to let him see how affected she was, before he leaned back. “Exactly that,” Khalid agreed with a nod. “You were an amusement for Kardar before, but if he thinks I want you as my wife, he won’t be able to help himself.” Khalid tilted his head back, staring up at the mosaic of his ancestors in the same way he did when they spent their nights together under the stars. “I hope you don’t mind being used as bait.”

Byleth shook her head. “It makes sense, and I am capable of protecting myself.”

Khalid blew out a deep breath, rearranging himself until he was sitting cross legged at the end of the bed. “I don’t know how long it will take, but if I’ve judged my brother correctly, he’ll bite. It’s just a matter of time.”

His eyes closed, his breathing slowing as it did when he began to meditate. “Khalid?”

Her voice snapped him back from wherever his mind had been. Khalid’s eyes snapped open and he hopped off the bed, away from her. “Well, I have a bit more work to do, but you should get some sleep.”

Byleth’s eyes narrowed. No, he was not getting away with whatever that was so easily. “Khalid,” Byleth said, her voice dropping low. Apparently Khalid heard the danger he was in because he immediately froze. His head slowly turned to look at her, the smile he offered wary at best. “You are running yourself ragged again,” Byleth continued before Khalid could get a word in. “You’re in need of sleep much more than me, and I am exhausted.” Byleth shifted over to one side of the bed, setting the jewelry box on the nightstand. She waved her hand at the rest of the bed. “Look at all that space. There is more than enough room for both of us without even getting close to being in each other’s way.”

Byleth held his gaze, watching a dozen different responses form in those eyes before he settled on, “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not tonight.”

Khalid sighed dramatically, removing his kandys and letting it fall to the floor before face planting onto the bed. He did not move, and Byleth began to wonder if he was already asleep. “You know,” Khalid drawled into the sheets, proving her suspicions incorrect, “I meant this as a joke, but I’m already really comfortable and it’s all hit me at once.”

“That’s because you were running on fumes,” Byleth teased.

Khalid groaned loudly as he rolled over onto his back, shimmying until he managed to maneuver his entire body onto the bed. Byleth curled her arm around a plush pillow, her cheeks aching from the smile on her lips. Khalid crawled under the blankets before his half lidded eyes sought her out once more. He was fading fast. “I’m going to need you to stop holding this sleep thing over my head.”

“That is only going to happen if you agree to sleep when you need it.”

“Oh, so we have reached an impasse then.” Khalid yawned widely, his whole body relaxing after it as he let himself sink into the comfort of his bed. “Good night, Byleth.”

“Good night, Khalid.”

/

They did not need to acknowledge that they had sought each other out as they slept. 

They did not need to acknowledge that when Byleth woke her ear was pressed against Khalid’s chest, listening to his heartbeat; his strong arm wrapped around her to keep her close.

They did not need to acknowledge they lingered there longer than necessary, until a rooster crowed and it would be ignored no longer.

They did not need to acknowledge that Khalid was awake when Byleth slipped from his bed, the door shutting after her just as the first rays of dawn crept through his window, and how much that made his empty heart ache.

They did not need to acknowledge any of it.

/

“He has you looking lovely in emeralds.”

Byleth paused, drawing in a deep breath through her nose before turning to face Kardar’s smiling face. His eyes swept over her, but landed on the emerald earrings. Perhaps it would not take as long for him to bite as Khalid thought. “He is certainly enjoying you it seems.”

Byleth clicked her tongue. “Is your vulgarity supposed to shock me?”

Kardar chuckled and shook his head, taking a step toward her. “That is what I like about you, Byleth. You are unflinching.”

Byleth gritted her teeth, wondering where Esther was. They had planned on taking lunch outside after the petitions, and Esther had gone to collect their meal. She had been gone a rather long time, or so it seemed to Byleth. She wondered if Kardar would risk forcing her into a private meeting like this if Esther was by her side.

Kardar took another step toward her, and then another, measuring her reaction to each movement. The closer he came to her without her moving away, the more eager he seemed.  _ “Kardar is clever, but always impatient when the finish line is in sight.” _

And then he reached up, so close now there was hardly any distance between them. Byleth held her breath. What if he touched her? Only Khalid was allowed to touch her. It was one of the first rules of the harem. Would Kardar really be so brazen? Byleth could feel the warmth of his hand, hovering so very close to her face, when Kardar took one of her earrings between two fingers. He twirled it, being careful not to pull at Byleth’s ear. Kardar intensely studied the gold and emerald, his eyes slowly drifted over to lock on Byleth.

“Why the focus on me, Kardar?” Byleth asked, not breaking eye contact.

Kardar leaned closer still, his hand stilling with his fingers wrapped around the emerald. “Because you are the one he wants.”

“My lady?”

Kardar stepped back, releasing her earring. Byleth remained completely still as his fingertips brushed over her neck. He nodded to her, laughter in his eyes, before turning on his head and walking down the hallway. On his way past Esther, he snatched a bread roll that was sticking out of the picnic basket she cradled. 

The two women were still until Kardar rounded a corner. Esther took a tentative step, her face drained of color, holding the basket close as her shield. “Byleth?”

Byleth jerked, a sharp snapping motion that immediately had Esther retracing her step. “Has Khalid called for me tonight?”

Esther nodded, her face strained. There were dark bags under her eyes, as if she were not sleeping. Her soft kindness had bled into a scared trepidation. “He did, just now. That was why I was gone so long,” she finished weakly.

Byleth turned back toward her chambers. She wanted to comfort Esther, but she was not even sure how to handle her own emotions right now. “We’ll eat back in the rooms. I don’t want to rush to get ready later.”

/

Khalid listened grim faced as Byleth recounted her encounter with Kardar. He nodded once she was done, still staring down into his goblet half full with the sweeter wine Byleth enjoyed.

“We’re going to have a fight now.”

Byleth sucked in a sharp breath, her body going cold. Fear, she realized, naming one of the emotions that made itself known less often than others. She was afraid. “Khalid, what did I do?”

Khalid’s head snapped up, blinking wide eyed at her. He seemed shocked by her genuine distress, his features softening as he realized what he had done. “Oh, Byleth, no. I did not mean it like that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were perfect.”

He swirled the remaining wine in his cup before throwing it back, setting the now empty goblet on his desk. “I meant that we were going to appear to have a falling out.”

“Oh.” Byleth was almost overwhelmed by the wave of relief that crashed into her. “That type of fight.”

“Yes,” Khalid responded with a smile that bordered on sad, “that type of fight.”

“I thought you were planning on Kardar’s interest in me being tied to your own. If it seems you have set me aside, won’t he lose interest?”

Khalid shook his head. “Not over a brief spat. At least, that is what I’m betting on,” Khalid clarified. “It won’t be bad enough to make him think there is a permanent rift. Just enough to give him an opportunity to make his move. And if he does not,” Khalid paused to shrug, “then we lose nothing by it.”

“All right.” She agreed, but Byleth felt the weight in her chest sinking. She had grown to enjoy these nights spent with Khalid, joking and chatting when the scheming was done. She did not like the idea of having to pretend to be angry and actively avoid him. “What do we fight about then?”

“What would make us both angry?”

Byleth could think of one thing that would at least involve a complicated web of emotions for them both. And it hurt how close to the truth it struck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter. This is very much the calm before the storm.


	18. Red Wolf Moon Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizes for making everyone wait an extra week for this chapter. The last couple of weeks have been really hard. The rest of the story is actually already written, it just needs to be typed up and edited, so hopefully there will be no more delays. (And also that means I post the epilogue on the same day I started this story a year ago, and that's just really poetic.)
> 
> Also! This would be the chapter where we finally get to see the [lovely commission](https://twitter.com/MidnightSinner5/status/1243901465460183040?s=20) I have from Midnight finally take place! I'm so excited for you guys to see it!

“Why, Lady Byleth, we are going to have to stop meeting like this.”

Byleth did not even try to resist the urge to roll her eyes, her more expressive emotions still subtle compared to others. “You are going to have to stop manufacturing meetings like this by sneaking into places you should not be.” She placed her kinnor down on the bench next to her. Esther had gone to fetch her own instrument so that the two could switch places, having spent the last hour dancing to the notes Byleth pulled from her harp.

Kardar smiled as he stepped forward, that sharp and dangerous thing. Byleth wanted to knock him into the dirt and wipe the poison from his face. Instead, she remained poised and hard, back ramrod straight, as Kardar invaded the privacy of the inner gardens, a place she was supposed to be able to escape him.

“Khalid will have your head if you are caught here,” Byleth pointed out.

That only made Kardar’s grin sharper. “That is the good thing about privilege and royal blood. If I were to be caught, all Khalid could do without backlash to himself or you would be to give me a slap on the wrist and a stern warning. If he wanted to make a fuss about it, it would only do more damage to his reputation than to mine, as he would be seen as failing to protect what is his.”

“Do I need protection from you?” Byleth asked, her eyes narrowing. She did not point out that Khalid could very easily make Kardar’s death look natural if his brother continued to cause enough trouble for him to go through the effort. There would be fallout, but at this point, Kardar was trending that dangerous line that would tip the balance. 

Kardar laughed softly. Byleth hated how much it sounded like Khalid’s, but there was always a note off, jarring her senses when it scrapped along her ears. “My brother might think so.”

He paused, watching Byleth’s reaction with open curiosity. This was the moment Khalid had asked of her, and Byleth found herself strangely calm as she faced down the man she was to deceive. The last time she had seen Khalid was when she had stormed from his chambers days ago, sending the servants gossiping. They did not need to know that Byleth and Khalid had not had a true argument, but they knew something had happened. It was now up to Byleth to sell the rest of the act. “I would prefer not to discuss Khalid and his protectiveness at the moment.”

“Oh?” Kardar took another step forward, his eager eyes eating her up. “You cannot say such things and expect a man not to be curious.” Another step, so that he was standing next to her bench. Byleth had to strain her neck upward to meet his gaze now. “Besides, everyone here is in Khalid’s employ. When else can you complain about him to someone who will not run and snitch on you.”

Byleth held firm for a moment longer before allowing her shoulders to slump, her rigid posture bending. Kardar took it as a sign she was relenting and took another step. One more and their legs would touch. “Khalid keeps saying I need to stay longer and longer. There is one excuse after another for me to stay.”

Power itched at her fingertips as Kardar sank onto the bench next to her, separated by only the kinnor. She reached for it as she would her sword, seeking the familiar comfort of a weapon within her grasp. Byleth knew very well the sight they presented, Kardar leaning toward her, secreted away among the garden blooms. “You are beginning to feel trapped?”

Byleth mulled it over, a weight sinking in her chest when she realized the words she spoke were not completely false. “I am used to a life on the road. I miss traveling, being allowed to go where I wanted and do as I pleased.” Her head dipped forward, her hair creating a curtain to shield her face from Kardar. “I fear sometimes that Khalid will never let me go.”

“Byleth,” Kardar began, but was quickly cut off when Byleth’s head snapped back up, pinning him with furious eyes.

“How are you any better, Kardar?” she growled, allowing her anger to spill forth. “Khalid wishes to keep me here, and you have made no secret that you would make me a prize. The two of you are no different.” Bile rose, burning her throat, but she managed to say the words without stumbling.

“Byleth,” Kardar began again, softer still. His hand reached up, tucking strands of her hair back behind her ear. He was so very careful not to touch her skin, but Byleth could feel the presence of his hand like the humming static of a bee before it decided to land. She was very aware of Sothis and the maybe-goddess’s rage building inside her mind. It was certainly beginning to feel like the avenging wrath Byleth had read about when researching the Fódlani religion. For now, Sothis remained still, waiting and watching, preparing to spring forth like a cobra with bared fangs.

“There is a very obvious difference between the two of us,” Kardar continued in his same gentle tone. “You are right, I make no secret of what I want from you. Part of that is to have you in my own harem as a prize, a symbol of all I would have overcome, if that is how you wish to word it. I would also have you perform another task for me, more in keeping with your mercenary skills. I would send you out to hunt down my enemies, to eliminate those who threaten the stability of Almyra. Then,” Kardar paused, his fingers teasing over the shell of her ear, dipping down for one precarious moment when flesh met flesh, “you will come home at night to fall in my bed.”

She wanted to throttle him. Sothis’s power was condensing. If she punched him she could reverse time and Kardar would be none the wiser. She could probably do it a few times before showing any outward effects. And was it not rich of him to discuss the stability of Almyra when that was the very thing he was threatening. “So instead of a cage you would give me a leash.”

Kardar laughed, brown eyes bright with merriment. He was enjoying himself. “You will always know where you stand with me, Byleth. I will never hide that from you. And I reward those who serve me well.”

“Like you did with Esther’s father?”

Byleth watched the laughter drain from Kardar’s eyes, watched them turn to that calculation necessary to survive in court. “That was an unfortunate incident; one I hope to rectify as soon as I am able.”

“Roxanne, if you keep eating those then there will be none left for Byleth.”

“Then we’ll go get more. It’s not like anyone would deny the king’s favorite.”

Byleth’s handmaidens bickered on their way back to her, alerting the pair to their approaching presence. Kardar gracefully slid from the bench, throwing a wink at Byleth. She noticed his fingers twitch, as if he were stopping himself from reaching out for her. 

And then he was gone, his back disappearing behind one path just as Esther and Roxanne appeared from another.

/

Esther and Roxanne had lost their rhythm. They used to flow around each other in a dance whenever preparing Byleth for the day. As Byleth watched them now, there was no graceful movement. They were crashing into each other, running across the other’s path. It felt as if Byleth were watching clowns upon a stage, but all the comedy from their routine was missing.

_“Perhaps now might be the time to intervene?”_ Sothis mused. Byleth could feel the maybe-goddess’s own trepidation at the tension in the room.

Byleth had to agree. She had tried to give them space to work out whatever issue was going on between them, but it had only made matters worse. She needed to intervene before this blew up on them.

...Right after she found out why Xio was marching soldiers into her chambers. 

There was none of that easy looseness to Xio with which he usually carried himself. He always reminded Byleth of the large panthers she and her father had sometimes encountered in southern Leicester, their movements effortless as they slinked between the shadows. Xio was certainly not slinking now. He wanted to be seen.

Byleth slowly pushed her chair back and stood, realizing halfway up that Xio’s gaze was not upon her, but rested upon Esther; Esther, who had gone completely pale, trembling from head to toe. Roxanne stood behind her, expression hard as stone.

“Forgive the intrusion, my lady,” Xio greeted, giving a stiff formal bow, but never once taking his eyes off Esther. He did not seem sorry at all, the harsh formality making Byleth realize he was here on behalf of Khalid.

His acknowledgement done, Xio next addressed Esther. “Esther Sadeghi, you are under arrest for the attempted assassination of His Most Noble Majesty Khalid al Almyra, Sovereign Duke Claude von Riegan of the Lesicter Alliance, the King of Unification, Wrath of Dawn, and Protector of the Lands Between the Highest Mountains.”

Byleth’s mouth went dry, any words she could think to say sticking in her throat. She placed a hand on the breakfast table, her fingers tenting upwards as she used the motion to hide the sudden sway that washed over her. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, regaining her balance.

“Esther?” Byleth managed, her voice surprisingly steady and calm.

But Esther was looking desperately to Roxanne. Byleth watched as Roxanne stared defiantly, her jaw clenched so tightly Byleth thought it might break. Roxanne thrusted her chin forward, a silent dare to question her.

Esther did not rise to the challenge. Her shoulders slumped, all of the fear draining from her in her moment of defeat. Her head dipped forward, accepting her fate within Roxanne’s silent rejection.

Xio stepped forward, his voice low enough that the guards that had arrived with him could not overhear. “Would you like to tell her, or shall I?” There was no softness in his voice, no hint of mercy. Esther stood still, not lifting her head to look at either of them. Xio’s eyes narrowed in disgust, removing a set of iron manacles and securing them around Esther’s wrists. “She is the one who poisoned Khalid’s food during your birthday banquet,” Xio explained to Byleth, allowing his eyes to rest on her now that his prisoner was secure.

Someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her. That had to be what happened. She had no other explanation for the chill of dread that washed over her. Byleth remembered that night all too clearly, the first time stealing the flakes of fish from Khalid’s plate and feeding Mǎhi herself, only to watch the tiny creature convulse. She had reached for the threads of time, only able to go back to the moment Mǎhi jumped from her lap. She had scooped him up, cradling him to her chest, but looked up just in time to see Khalid popping the portion of fish Byleth had before fed Mǎhi into his mouth. He had winked at her, but his smile wavered a second later, and Byleth knew. 

In the end, she could not change fate. The universe had demanded a death, and with Sothis screaming in her mind as Byleth reached once more for the threads, Khalid’s pale face and grasping hands before her, Byleth made her choice.

Byleth wanted to ask why, but the word stuck in her throat. As if sensing her, Esther lifted her head for the first time since her arrest. She looked to no one besides Byleth, a strange distrachment to her words when she spoke, as if her soul had already taken flight. “Kardar promised to make me a concubine, and to restore my father’s position. Everything would have gone back to how it should have been, before King Khalid took the throne.”

Bile rose to burn Byleth’s throat once more, and she fought to swallow against it. Xio’s eyes were burning with hatred, disgusted with Esther and out of patience. He yanked on Esther’s manacles, causing her to stumble forward, following Xio with her usual grace after the first misstep.

Byleth simply stood there, not knowing what to do with herself. The silence the guards left in their wake was deafening, the light trills from birds overhead jarringly out of place.

It was one of those moments when time lost all meaning. The world ceased to move around them, right up until Roxanne’s legs gave out from under her. She fell to the ground in a heap, curling in on herself. A low moan turned into a choked sob filling Byleth’s private space, a signal for the world to once more bring them back into its flow.

Slowly, her own legs shaky, Byleth sank onto the ground next to Roxanne. She placed an arm around Roxanne’s shoulders, the other woman turning into the embrace. Byleth held her as Roxanne cried, soaking the thin fabric of Byleth’s dress, repeating her heart wrenching mantra over and over again.

“I’ve killed her. I’ve killed my best friend. I love her, and I’ve killed her.”

/

“Your hair is not even done yet.”

Byleth stared at Tiana in her mirror as the Dowager Queen entered her wardrobe. Esther and Roxanne had long ago dragged the vanity into the clothing area, making it easier on all of them when Byleth’s patience with the whole process came to an end.

“Roxanne isn’t up for helping at the moment.” Once Roxanne had finished crying, Byleth had helped her make the seemingly endless walk back through the panel and into her own rooms. She was not sure about leaving Roxanne in a space as filled with memories of Esther, but Roxanne had refused to take Byleth’s bed. When Byleth had laid Roxanne down in the handmaid’s own bed, Roxanne had curled up under the sheets and cut herself off from the rest of the world.

And yet, Khalid had sent word that Byleth was still expected to attend a banquet tonight. Byleth knew her current fight with Khalid was an act, but her annoyance with him was real enough. There were too many emotions raging in her for control at the moment, to the point she wished she could go back to when such things did not affect her.

Tiana made a noncommittal hum, picking up one of the brushes and beginning to comb it through Byleth’s hair. There was something about those steady hands as they worked that eased Byleth. When she was little, Jeralt had done such a thing for her. She remembered sitting on his lap in the growing dawn, listening to him mumble as he straightened her up for the day, never once flinching when the comb snagged a knot. He had done that a lot in the beginning, but Jeralt had learned, his hands growing gentler when he handled the brush.

“Khalid needs you tonight,” Tiana said in her matter of fact tone. She set down the brush and began to part Byleth’s hair into different sections she would need to create the braids Almyrans were so fond of wearing. “Kardar is leaving tomorrow back for his own lands, most likely to fully mobilize his forces.”

“So it’s now or never?”

Tiana’s hand paused, catching the spite that dripped from Byleth’s voice. If Byleth had not seen her raised brow in the mirror, she might not even have noticed it herself. “Not never,” Tiana corrected. “But certainly the best time to attempt with the least amount of collateral damage.”

“If that is the case he should not have tipped off Kardar by arresting Esther.”

_“What has gotten into you?”_ Sothis questioned, a mixture of shock, worry, and anger creating a potent mix within the shadowed throne room. 

Byleth was not completely sure. It was as if somewhere between the discussion with Kardar and Esther’s arrest something inside her had snapped. Perhaps she had not been acting as much as she thought she was when she told Kardar she felt trapped. Perhaps she was not processing Esther’s betrayal as well as she thought. The breakneck pace of the court had drained her. All the conspiracies and schemes were not a game Byleth felt equipped to play; not when Khalid continued to only supply her half the rules. 

“None of the present charges against Esther have Kardar’s name attached to them. Allowing Kardar into the harem, conspiring to allow him access to you, supplying information about members of the harem to Kardar’s servants, _those_ will all be leveled against her if Kardar is taken care of tonight,” Tiana explained. “He may have his suspicions, but not yet any reason to think he has been implicated. In fact, he may have more reason to think he needs to move now, in case Esther’s questioning does reveal any details of his plan.” Tiana paused, putting the final twist in Byleth’s hair, wrapping all the braids together. She had woven some silver charms into her hair: a star, a crescent moon, and the sun, that clinked together when Byleth’s head whipped around at Tiana’s final statement. “I think Khalid also worried about her being in your presence any longer than necessary.”

Tiana’s eyes narrowed at whatever she saw on Byleth’s face, but she did not stop Byleth from pushing out of her chair and storming toward the door. 

A quiet fury had overcome Byleth. She was so sick of everything being done in the name of her protection. At this point it felt an insult, a continual slap to the face. She had thought Khalid had trusted her, but ever since his birthday when he allowed her in on his secrets, he had begun this pattern of pushing her away right after reeling her in. Why bring her so close only to backpedal and shove her away again? He kept asking her to stay, but she was feeling more and more like the caged bird Kardar had called her.

Was Kardar right? Was she the same for Khalid, a pretty prize to display, with the only difference being that Kardar was up front with his intentions?

No, that was not it. Byleth shook her head as if it could shake loose the intrusive thought. As she stalked the hallways to Khalid’s chambers, she dismissed the idea completely. She had seen Khalid’s heart on their nights together. A clever schemer, yes he was, but not callous. A part of her softened, that piece of her that answered Khalid’s smiles whenever he allowed them to reach his eyes, but her anger did not fade. Too much had happened without her knowledge to not confront him now. Esther had been a step too far.

When Byleth reached the king’s chambers, the guards opened the doors without even questioning her. Apparently Khalid had not revoked her access to his chambers during the course of their fight. Although, he might very well do so after this. 

She heard his distinctive soft laugh coming from his bedroom. It dangled before her like a lead, Byleth’s steps following it as it pulled her in. Through the crack in the door, Byleth could see Khalid attempting to place a gold and steel circlet around his head while still reading whatever paper was on his desk. His unruly hair was refusing to go down without a fight with only half of Khalid’s attention on the task.

Finally tucking the last strands, Khalid lifted his head from the page he was reading, catching sight of her. His smile was immediate, but fleeting, dropping into concern after the second it took to process her frown. Khalid recovered quickly enough, that disingenuous smile making itself present. “Hey, Byleth. What brings you here?”

Byleth wanted to smack him. She wanted to let go of all her anger and pull him into bed so they could lay side by side again, gazing up at that mosaic as they discussed anything and everything. She wanted to see that first smile every time he looked at her. She wanted him to see her, when all it seemed he saw anymore was a harem concubine under his protection.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Esther?”

With a single breath Khalid disappeared before her, leaving the King in his place. “Because I did not want to burden you with having to pretend everything was fine.”

And there it was again. “Do you really think so little of me?” Byleth snapped. Khalid took a step back as if she had struck him, but his features hardened as she continued. “I don’t understand. Sometimes you act as if I’m the key to helping you, and other times I am nothing more than a pawn.” Khalid opened his mouth to protest, but Byleth barreled through. “It cannot be both! You cannot keep having me snap back and forth like this. Either you trust me enough to help you and you tell me the full plan, or I am really just a game piece you are moving around the board. You push and pull so much I cannot tell if you are my friend or my employer.”

“Are you really so upset about someone caring for you?” Khalid’s voice was even as a pane of glass, a reverb beneath ready to shatter, sending cutting shards on a path of destruction.

“There is a difference,” Byleth countered. “You know what I am capable of, and yet you insist on smothering me.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’ll have your freedom as soon as this job is done!” He snapped the words, eyes blown wide in regret the moment he said them. But they were loose now.

Something dark and heavy rested between them. Byleth wanted to reach out to Khalid, and if she was reading that look in his eyes correctly, he wanted to do the same. He wanted her to do something, anything, to fix the situation. Perhaps he wished she would use her powers to put the words back in his mouth. But he had proven himself capable of saying them all the same, even if she had provoked him. She would know he had said it even if she did reverse it.

“Byleth,” Khalid began, but Byleth could not bear any excuse. 

“I am a professional, Your Majesty,” Byleth heard herself saying, voice flat. “I shall act it for the remaining duration. Thank you for making yourself so clear.”

She spun on her heel and all but ran from Khalid. But no matter how far she went she could not outrun the ache in her chest or the hurt in Khalid’s eyes.

/

“Byleth!” Kardar stood, blinking wide eyes at her. His lips slowly curled upward into a grin as his eyes swept over her, all dolled up and perfumed for the banquet that would begin in less than an hour. “I was not expecting to see you before the festivities.”

Byleth shook her head. “I came out here to clear my head. I guess I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going.” It was no lie. Byleth had gone back to her rooms after her confrontation with Khalid. Tiana was gone, but three of her maids waited for Byleth in her place. Byleth sat still as a statue as they painted her face and draped her in the dancer’s finery that had become her signature outfit at such events. She even allowed her nails to be painted the same dark blue as her hair.

The last piece of the picture were Khalid’s earrings. One of the maids had reached for the box resting on the vanity, but Byleth had moved her away with a swift motion. Now the hooks dug into the palm of her hand as Byleth tried to pretend they did not exist, while all at once unable to not remind herself of their presence. 

Kardar’s smile lost some of its hard edge, as if he might truly be taking pity on whatever trouble Byleth was going through. “Then I must thank fate for dropping me in your path.”

Byleth blinked, taking in Kardar’s riding leathers and the thin sheen of sweat that coated his brow. Strands of his long dark hair had come undone, wild and windswept, but nowhere near as messy as if he had just ridden on a wyvern. Horse then, which meant wherever he had gone it was somewhere in the city. Byleth tilted her head curiously. “Where are you coming back from?”

Kardar stepped up next to her, making himself rather familiar. Byleth forced herself to remain relaxed, even when she could smell the strong spices coming off his breath. “There is a market just outside the inner ring of the city. It is where many of the city’s merchants live and do business.” His eyes shone with pride, his breath quickening with exhilaration at the memory. “Every conceivable item in Almyra is traded there, from the food vendors to jewel crafters, and everything in between.” His smile dropped ever so slightly, a mistake, for it allowed Byleth to see the calculations in his movements. “Have you not been?”

Byleth resisted the urge to scoff. Kardar knew well that besides a few exceptions Byleth had not left the inner ring. Her brief excursion to buy supplies for her flight with Selene had been in the outer circle, a hussle of people all determined to go about their own business without a care for anyone else. Instead she simply shook her head. “I have only left the palace district for the New Year’s festival, my trip to Leicester, and during my investigation.”

From the cruel curl of his lips Byleth did not need to clarify. “Ah. I did hear about that,” Kardar purred, reminding Byleth of a cat with a mouse trapped between his paws. “Lovely work you did, if the reports are to be believed.”

“I did what was asked of me, nothing more,” Byleth attempted to cut him off.

Kardar laughed, that one single note Khalid made when something amused him and he could not quite hide it fast enough, Kardar’s version just always slightly off-key enough to make her stumble. “Ever the professional,” Kardar complimented, his words like a sharpened blade pressed against her throat.

Byleth jumped at the feel of Kardar’s hot hand wrapping around her own. She had been too distracted watching his face that she had not noticed Kardar reaching out for her. Kardar stood patiently, watching to see if Byleth would rip her hand away. She hated how easy it was to allow him with Khalid’s parting words ringing in her head. He held her gaze as he slowly raised Byleth’s hand between them, the earrings still digging into her skin. “Be my weapon, Byleth,” Kardar whispered, his breath ghosting over her fingers. “A prize you will be, but a well utilized one at that. I will not keep you here to wither.”

Byleth’s chest went tight as Kardar’s lips brushed over her fingers. He was hot, so hot Byleth was certain he would leave blisters in his wake. Her fingers curled even tighter, a sharp breath escaping her as Khalid’s earring finally succeeded in breaking through her skin. Her nod was a sharp jerked motion torn from her very core. 

_“Kardar is clever, but always impatient when the finish line is in sight.”_

She was going to make him blind. 

Kardar’s hand squeezed her, his expression falling too open. She saw his ambition, all the cruelty and entitlement that fueled him. Her gasp turned into a soft intake of breath at the feel of that heat on the back of her neck. Kardar’s fingers dug at her skin, Byleth fighting every urge to flinch away. She wanted to run her own hand over where he touched, to see if he had branded her somehow. 

Kardar saw none of it, too wrapped up in the future he had dreamt for himself, the one in which Byleth played a key role. And now, as far as he thought, he had her. 

His lips pressed against hers, touching her with more of that fire, his heavy hand at her neck keeping her in place. Relax, Byleth chanted to herself, afraid she would give herself away. She forced herself to give in, to awkwardly move her own lips in a rendition of a kiss, grateful that Kardar was already pulling away when she did so.

He laughed gently, his hands lingering on her. “I see my fool brother does not spend the appropriate time paying homage to your lips. Do not worry, Byleth. That will be remedied before the night is through.”

Byleth held herself still as Kardar moved away with a nod, his lips stretched wide in that wicked grin, managing not to tremble until he had rounded a corner into the palace proper. Bile burned her throat, her stomach churning violently at the feel of his heat lingering on the skin he had touched. 

She hated how right he was about Khalid kissing her, for it only made her think of all the nights she had spent alone in her own bed picturing Khalid doing just that to her; of the nights she had lain beside him, forcing herself not to think of those things because he was all too close. 

She could not very well tell Kardar that he had taken her first kiss.

/

Someone was not coming out of this banquet in their right mind, and Byleth’s belief that it was going to be her was growing stronger every minute. There was a tension throughout the hall that had the courtiers on edge. They wore thin masks, but the smiles were just a tad too tight, their eyes strained as the forced laughter. Byleth noted multiple people carefully monitoring their intake of alcohol, as if they expected to need their senses later in the night.

Perhaps she felt that tension more keenly because of her falling out with Khalid. As far as everyone else was concerned, their spat had happened days ago, the very night after she had slid from his bed with only seconds to spare. She suspected rumor had gone around about her storming into Khalid’s rooms only a few hours ago, further cementing her fall from grace. So long as Byleth found herself far from Khalid’s good graces, she was a social pariah at court.

The only person who seemed to actually be enjoying himself was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Kardar. Byleth glanced to Khalid, who was very pointedly engaged in conversation with Lysithea, Tamora flipping through a book at her friend’s side. Kardar laughed at something one of the men sitting with him said, his loud mirth echoing through the hall. 

_“He certainly is making himself the center of attention,”_ Sothis grumbled, chin propped up on her hand as she leaned forward on her throne. 

_“Because he thinks his plan foolproof,”_ Byleth added.

Sothis hummed softly in agreement. _“And what is your plan then?”_ She sensed Byleth’s hesitation, her hard edges softening in that way she did whenever Byleth felt lost. _“One fight does not mean your feelings for him have changed, child.”_

Byleth retreated into Sothis’s throne room, the dark space more comfortable at the moment than the bright banquet. _“And what do I do with those?”_ Byleth asked, desperately wanting the answer. 

_“Explore them. Or at the very least stop running from them. They travel with you, you know. You cannot escape your heart,”_ Sothis answered, the edges of her words tinged with a tired exasperation.

Byleth wanted to refute her, to turn off whatever path Sothis was leading her down with this _“After tonight my job is done. And...it’s been a year since our deal. I’ll have no reason to stay.”_

Sothis sighed heavily and shook her head. _“Do you still really believe that? Feelings are reason enough.”_

_“He said-”_

_“Never mind what he said!”_ Sothis just managed to keep herself from shouting. _“Do you not remember all the smiles on his face when he sees you? All those private moments he has shared with you? Only a week ago he held you-”_

_“He was asleep!”_ Byleth cut her off. _“He did not realize what he was doing,”_ she finished lamely. She could not let it be more than that. She could not allow herself that hope.

Sothis sat up straighter in her throne, the power radiating off of her choking Byleth. She could very well believe Sothis was the goddess with whom she shared her name. Dark eyes stared into Byleth’s soul, judging her upon a scale she could not hope to tip. Sothis did not need to speak for Byleth to hear the goddess’s decree, her stare declaring her accusation more pointedly than any soliloquy, as her patience with Byleth’s own denials expended and died. 

Byleth did not correct her, but even in her own mind she could not let herself say those words. The most she could allow herself, the very closest she would tread, for he was King and she a simply mercenary, was, _“That is why I will finish this last job for him.”_

The hall came back to her in a rush of heat and bright colors. Out of the corner of her eye, Byleth caught Khalid’s gaze lingering on her before he turned back to Lysithea. She could not let herself become distracted by him. Her focus needed to remain on her target. 

Kardar sat at the edge of a circular couch, only the woman at his side preventing him from making an easy escape. It took Byleth a moment to place her, one of the harem women whom Khalid had yet to ‘bed.’ She looked nervous as Kardar’s arms waved around, coming dangerously close to touching her a few times. The men who sat with Kardar laughed at whatever joke the royal said, their wine cups only half empty even this long into the celebration.

Their eyes followed her as Byleth made her approach, Kardar’s lingering in some form of invitation. Or perhaps it was a challenge. Byleth was not sure. The woman stared up at Byleth with wide doe eyes, flinching when Kardar rested an arm across the back of the couch behind her.

“Byleth,” Kardar cooed,” lovely to see you. Unfortunately it seems as if there are no more seats available.”

“Then it is fortunate for me that His Majesty would like to speak with you,” Byleth directed at the young woman, not even sparing a glance for Kardar. The woman blinked those wide eyes up at him, shock visible for a brief second before she managed to hide it.

“Thank you, your ladyship,” she bowed her head in acknowledgement, her voice thick with an east Almyran accent. Byleth stood aside to allow her room to slide gracefully off the couch before taking her seat.

Kardar huffed a laugh as Byleth settled beside him, not removing his arm from the back of the couch. “You have not been near my dear brother all night,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his wine. “If you wished to be near me so badly you had only to ask, Byleth.” His voice was low enough so that only Byleth could hear, but the eyes of Kardar’s supporters lingered on them. 

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Byleth replied lightly. Both of them watched the young woman cross the room to Khalid’s side and bow deeply. Khalid’s brow creased in confusion for a moment before his gaze snapped to Byleth. It was the first time he had looked at her directly all night.

Her heart jumped into her throat at the emerald fire that caught her in its embrace, the hardened features of the king’s face doing nothing to soften the effect. His fingers tightened around his own cup, raising it to his lips. The drink he took was drawn out, Byleth’s breath hitching when the seconds tipped over the edge of reasonable. When he finally turned away, it was as if he had stolen all the light from her sight.

“My, my,” Kardar drawled, leaning in close to whisper in Byleth’s ear. “I do not think I have ever actually seen jealousy color my brother before. It is a look I rather like on him. Makes him seem, hmm, off balance.”

“I fear you are reading too much into it,” Byleth tried to protest. “Khalid has made it rather clear he is done with me. I would not be surprised if I am told to leave the palace any day now.” She paused, tearing her eyes away from Khalid to meet Kardar. “Does that change your plans for me?”

Kardar laughed, soft and low, his wet breath warm on her cheek. “Oh, I think you give yourself too little credit. Khalid’s anger is most certainly not directed at you. Besides,” he paused, turning his body even closer to Byleth, creating a wall at her side, “I told you, he will not have the power to chase you off after tonight, anyways.”

Byleth stopped breathing, body going tense, at the feel of Kardar’s hand upon her thigh. He stroked upward from her knee, his fingers finding their way beneath the slit in her skirt, his calloused touch sliding over smooth skin. 

She was going to throttle him. She was going to rip off that hand and beat him with it. She was-

“Byleth!” Hilda purred at her, retaking the spot Byleth had stood in only a few moments ago. There was a smile on her face, all sharp edges and unmasked falseness, that she directed at Kardar. “Khalid has missed your company all night. Perhaps now would be a good time to go speak with him.”

One of Kardar’s men gave a barked laugh. “He just keeps coming to take your women away tonight, doesn’t he, Kardar?”

Hilda turned her smile on him, her eyes narrowing. The man met her gaze easily enough, probably because he had never seen Hilda swing around the giant axe she used in combat. “We are women of the harem. We belong to no one save His Majesty,” Hilda corrected him.

Byleth slid out of her seat, grateful to have an excuse to flee from Kardar’s touch. She held her head high as she crossed the distance, Khalid’s fiery gaze on her once more. He rose in a graceful motion when she neared, power and authority draped over him as easily as his clothes, and turned on his heel.

Byleth knew she was supposed to follow. 

Still, she stood there for a single moment longer, the whispers of the court surrounding her. They knew he was to dole out a punishment to her, and their wagging tongues waited impatiently for another tragic tale of disgrace to shape their words. Truth be told, Byleth was not sure what awaited her outside this room. Moments ago she was eager to leave. Now, she was not sure if she wished to face the consequences. 

She shook herself out of that thought. This was what they had planned. She was doing as Khalid had asked her. Nothing more. He could not truly be angry with her.

Byleth passed Nader, a raised brow his acknowledgement to her, and Brida, who frowned grimly. They blocked anyone else from following after Khalid, once the door closed behind her and cut off the sounds of revelry, leaving her and Khalid alone in the oddly silent halls.

She stared at Khalid’s broad back, rigid and tense. His gaze was set forward, determined not to look at her, waiting for her without waiting. Khalid started off, leading Byleth away from the banquet, the only noise between them the sound of their footsteps echoing off stone and marble. He turned sharply after their brief walk, leading Byleth into what was, as far as she could tell, a random room.

There were rows of desks, set facing each other so that their occupants would easily be able to speak with one another. Rows of books lines one wall, while shelves upon another were well stocked with writing implements, ink, and blank papers. Most likely secretaries worked here copying, notating, and translating messages. At least, that was Byleth’s best guess.

The moment he closed the door behind them, Khalid whirled on her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

Byleth clenched her jaw tight. If it were not for that hurt and anger in his eyes, Byleth might very well have lost her temper with him; not to say she was far from that at the moment anyways. “What you asked me to do,” she forced herself to answer in a calm tone, keeping her words even. It was the same tone she used with employers when they attempted to weasel out of paying their full bill. “You gave me a job to do.”

Khalid growled, a sound of pain as he warred with himself. She had never seen this side of him before. Usually when he was angry, his temper ran cool. Khalid took his time, creating the perfect plan to deal with whatever had upset him. His pacing back and forth seemed almost unhinged in comparison. “That is all anything is with you anymore; just a job.”

Ah, so that was how it was. Byleth’s own hurt came bubbling to the surface, and as they always seemed to do only around him, Byleth’s words overflowed and spilled out. “What would you have me do then?” she snapped back. “I act like a mercenary because I am one. I am certainly not a concubine, technically none of us are, despite what you may call us.”

That stopped Khalid in his tracks. His eyes widened for the flicker of a second, before his face hardened again. “After everything, that is what you believe?”

“What else am I supposed to believe, Khalid?” She could feel the chasm between them growing with each word, the ground crumbling beneath her feet, and yet she could not stop herself. The words kept coming when all she wanted was to hold them on her tongue. It was certainly preferable to wielding them as the whip that was currently biting into Khalid.

His face looked pained as he gazed upon her, the knowledge that she had put that expression upon his face a knife through her heart. “Is there not any part of you that believes I care for you?”

That brought her up short, only for her world to charge past and leave her feeling left behind. “Is that enough? Without trust?” she asked, just above a whisper. “This was your plan, and yet you...you don’t seem to trust me at all. I was supposed to make Kardar believe you were jealous, that I was on his side and willing to throw you off balance. But then you intervened, and-”

"Of course I intervened," Khalid snapped, cutting her off. A storm raged in his eyes, smothering that previous pain. "As far as the court is concerned, you are my favorite. You really think I would keep letting you make a cuckold out of me in front of all of them? You are mine," he hissed, venomous jealousy dripping from every syllable. 

"Am I now?" Byleth answered back, her tone dangerously even. She had not been this angry since Matti had forced the emotion from her dances; not even Kadar had pushed her to this point. How dare he attempt to claim her! "You may hang a pretty title around our necks and attach your name to us, but in the end, we are not yours. You push everyone away, Khalid. Tell me, how could you ever hope to call me yours when you distrust everyone so much you won't even let another person touch you?"

There was a beat of silence, deafening as it echoed in Byleth's ears. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, turning aside so he could not see the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "When I agreed to be one of your concubines, you said I could leave when my year was up," Byleth continued, her voice softer now, barely above a whisper. "I'm going-"

But he cut her off. A warm hand, calloused from years of pulling on a bow and swinging an axe, wrapped around her arms and spun her back around. Khalid pulled her into an embrace, stronger than Byleth would have given him credit for.

For an eternity they stood there, Khalid’s breath coming in great heaves, his eyes shut tight against reality. His forehead rested against hers, the tip of his nose brushing up against her own. He was holding her, begging her to stay close to him, and it was costing him so much of himself to admit any of it to her. “Don’t-” he managed to choke out, unable to voice more than that. He shook his head, the motion causing him to rub his nose against hers. Byleth could see the pinpricks of tears in the concerns of his eyes, hear and feel the terror in his voice.

Slowly, silently, Byleth stood on tiptoe, pressing more of herself against him. Khalid’s hands gripped her tighter, begging her not to slip away. She tilted her head back, brushing her lips over his before realizing what she was doing and attempting to retreat. But Khalid chased her, almost crushing in his embrace of her. Byleth pressed her lips to his once more, soft and hesitant, asking permission. Light exploded through her when he whispered her name, a choked sound torn from his core.

She was not hesitant after that.

And she could comment on none of this, for his lips were pressed against hers, desperate and pleading in words his clever tongue could never hope to form. She fell completely, indulging in the taste of wine on his tongue, in the gentle warmth of the hand at the back of her neck. It was awkward, more teeth than anything else as they learned to navigate their way around each other, but neither was discouraged. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Byleth realized that this was the first kiss she had wanted, probably the first kiss Khalid had ever allowed himself, and it almost made her laugh. They had to come this far, nearly losing each other, to admit how much they wanted to stay together.

That was right, she realized with a sudden jolt of horror, she could still lose him.

Byleth pushed at Khalid’s shoulders, forcing them to part. “Kardar,” she managed, not realizing how breathless he had made her until she attempted to speak.

Khalid frowned heavily, but his forehead rested against her, not pulling away. He held her still, arms wrapped comfortingly around her. Byleth could feel the slight tremble there even now, as if he could not believe he was truly allowing his body to willingly be pressed against someone else. His chest labored as he attempted to catch his own breath, Byleth glad she was not the only one who had hers stolen away. “Not what I was expecting your first word after our first kiss to be,” Khalid teased, the laughter in his voice strained. 

Byleth rolled her eyes, an easy and familiar gesture when it came to Khalid’s bad jokes. It was worth it to see that quirk of his lips, faint as it was. “Kardar plans to make his move tonight, just as you thought.”

“I know.” There was that perfect blend of confidence and gentleness as Khalid’s fingers played with the strands of her hair. “Do you trust me?”

There was only one answer she knew, only one as she stared into those emerald eyes brimming with certainty, the core of him trying so hard to use it as a cloak with which to hide his fear. Byleth drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him.

And then Khalid was kissing her again. He walked her backwards, Byleth letting herself sink into the feel of him. She trusted him. More than that, she loved him. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, her grip on him tightening. Khalid responded in kind, the arm around her waist pulling her in as close as their bodies could be. He supported her when she ran into a desk, helped her slide onto the smooth surface. Never once did Khalid break them apart. He was a quick study, having discovered the breathless moans Byleth had never before heard from herself, and determined to make them fall from her lips over and over again. Byleth, in turn, had realized how reckless Khalid was when she opened her mouth, his tongue eager to seek her out. Byleth let her teeth scrape across Khalid’s tongue as it entered, pressing her smile against his lips at his moment of hesitation, before he braved the danger and dove back into her.

Khalid only released her once she was situated comfortably on the desk. His fingers danced around her wrist, carefully undoing the sash that was tied to her bracelets and draped behind her, used to emphasize her movements. He pressed the fabric into her hand, brushing his lips against hers one more time before pulling back just enough to take her face in completely. His free hand rose, fingers lightly gripping her chin. Despite the danger she knew was coming, Byleth could not help gazing at him, her fond smile refusing to flee. She was floating in a strange limbo of fear and joy, torn in two opposing directions. She did not know what would happen, only that the feelings she had so long refused to put into words were returned. She was not going to let anything happen to him now.

“I love you,” she whispered, her words pressing her chin against Khalid’s thumb with each syllable. 

It overwhelmed him in return. Byleth watched Khalid’s mouth work open, only to close again. He tried once more, but no word came out. Byleth wrapped a hand around the back of Khalid’s neck and pulled him in, pouring her understanding against his lips. He, in turn, pressed every word he did not know how to say to her skin. Byleth understood.

Khalid squeezed her hand, the one clutching the balled up fabric. Byleth understood that too.

When the door opened, Byleth’s body going rigid, Khalid kissed her harder still, before his lips dropped down to blaze a trail over her neck. Byleth held on, just in case that earthshaking thud should echo through her chest again. Her dreams of him had never been this warm.

But nor had they ever been interrupted by an ambitious brother whose greedy eyes sought out the perfect target that was Khalid’s back. Kardar slid into the room, brown eyes already burning with triumph as they locked with Byleth. He slid fully into the room on silent steps. 

Her breath caught at the glimmer of moonlight off steel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! And then there will be a short epilogue to wrap everything up! I hope you guys are ready for it. ;)


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